and the two people, who usually chatted like magpies on the hundred light topics which are the straws on which society conversations are kept afloat, hardly spoke during the drive to the picnic ground.
Stirrups, sitting behind with folded arms and stony face, seemed to feel the constraint of his betters, which he himself shared.
At the entrance of the Glen, the spot chosen for the picnic, they encountered Mr. Gray Grosvenor, who welcomed them cordially but hurriedly. He was one of those hosts who cannot give themselves time to welcome quietly the guests who have arrived, but whose eyes and thoughts are forever wandering to the next comers, who may be of more importance than the ones whom he is at that moment greeting.
"Ah, how de doo, Miss Gladys? Ah, um, um, Larkington, delighted to see you. Basket? oh yes, um, yes, thanks, yes; give it to the waiter. Good of you, I'm sure. Yes, yes, you 'll find my sister in the Glen.
