Don't you remember, Hugh?"
"Yes; certainly he was," Gifford answered.
"Then they must be his," Morriston concluded.
"And where is he--without them?" Painswick added with a laugh.
"Dead of cold?"
"It is altogether quite mysterious," Morriston observed with a puzzled
air. "He can't be here still."
"Hardly," his sister replied. "You know him?" she asked Kelson.
"Quite casually. So far as nearly coming to a rough and tumble with the
fellow for his cheek in scoffing our fly at the station constitutes an
acquaintance. Gifford acted as peacemaker, and we put up with the
fellow's company to the town. But neither of us imbibed a particularly
high opinion of the sportsman, did we, Hugh?"
"No," Gifford assented; "his was not a taking character, to men at any
rate; and we rather wondered how he came to be going to the
Cumberbatch Ball."
"No doubt he got his ticket in the ordinary way," Morriston said.
"It only shows, my dear Dick," his sister observed, "you may quite easily
run risks in giving a semi-public dance in your own house."
Morriston laughed. "Oh, come, Edith," he protested, "we need not make too
much of it.
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