The Duke diverted his gaze to the other, who, with an angry look at the one, cleared his throat, and said "I was going to ask if you thought Miss Dobson would come and have luncheon with me to-morrow?"
"A sister of mine will be there," explained the one, knowing the Duke to be a precisian.
"If you are acquainted with Miss Dobson, a direct invitation should be sent to her," said the Duke. "If you are not———" The aposiopesis was icy.
"Well, you see," said the other of the two, "that is just the difficulty. I am acquainted with her. But is she acquainted with me? I met her at breakfast this morning, at the Warden's."
"So did I," added the one.
"But she—well," continued the other, "she didn't take much notice of us. She seemed to be in a sort of dream."
"Ah!" murmured the Duke, with melancholy interest.
"The only time she opened her lips," said the other, "was when she asked us whether we took tea or coffee."
"She put hot milk in my tea," volunteered the one, "and upset the cup over my hand, and smiled vaguely."
"And smiled vaguely," sighed the Duke.
"She left us long before the marmalade stage," said the one.
