I never did understand these things."
"Heavens, you don't mean Peter Phipps!" Sarah exclaimed.
"His very name," her aunt declared. "How did you guess it, my dear? Here
he is. Be quiet, all of you, and watch Grover announce him. He's such a
snob--Grover. He hates a Mister, anyhow, and 'Peter Phipps' will
dislocate his tongue."
Lady Amesbury was disappointed. Grover had marched with the times, and
the presence of a millionaire made itself felt. His announcement was
sonorous and respectful. Mr. Peter Phipps made his bow to his hostess
under completely auspicious circumstances.
"So kind of you not to forget, Mr. Phipps," she murmured. "My Sunday
parties are always _viva voce_ invitations, and what between not
remembering whom I've asked, and not knowing whether those I've asked
will remember, I generally find it horribly difficult to arrange the
places. We are all right tonight, though. Only two missing. Who are
they, Sarah?"
"Josephine and Mr. Wingate," Sarah replied, with a covert glance
at Phipps.
"Of course! And thank goodness, here they are! Together, too! If there's
anything I love, it's to start one of my dinners with a scandal.
Josephine, did you bring Mr. Wingate or did he bring you?"
Josephine laughed. Then she saw Phipps standing in the background and she
raised her voice a little.
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