"No—er—sorry to say I don't—"
"A charming chap. In some ways. Helen was a Shavian in considering marriage the chief pursuit of women. She pursued. Followed Lismore to Italy, where he proposed. I presume he thought that being in Rome, he must do as the Romeos do."
"But, my dear lady," said Harrowby in a daze, "isn't it the Romans?"
"Isn't what the Romans?" asked Mrs. Bruce blankly.
"Your lordship is correct," said Mr. Paddock hastily. "Mrs. Bruce misquoted purposely—in jest, you know. Jibe—japery."
"Oh—er—pardon me," returned his lordship.
"I saw Helen in London last spring," Mrs. Bruce went on. "She confided to me that she considers her husband a genius. And if genius really be nothing but an infinite capacity for taking champagnes, I am sure the poor child is right."
Little murmurs of joy, and the dinner proceeded. The guests bent over their food, shipped to Mrs. Bruce in a refrigerating car from New
