“It’s certainly a dreadful situation,” said Mrs. Pallitson; “how would it be,” she added slowly and reflectively, “if I were to ask Margaret and Bobbie over to our place for the remainder of the marchioness’s stay? My husband has got a men’s party, but we could easily expand it. Out of all your guests you could subtract three without unduly diminishing your number. We could pretend that it was an old arrangement.”

“Do you mind if I kiss you?” asked Mrs. Duff-Chubleigh; “after this we must call each other by our Christian names. Mine is Elizabeth.”

“There I must object,” said Mrs. Pallitson, who had submitted to the kiss; “there is dignity and charm in the name Elizabeth, but my godparents christened me Celeste. When a woman weighs as much as I do⁠—”

“I am sure you don’t,” exclaimed her hostess, in defiant disregard of logic.