Mr. Dean said he thought it meant a bridegroom on the following—but before he could finish his sentence his youngest daughter Jessica, at home for a short weekend to rest from her theatrical labours said, “no, darling,” in a very firm voice, and Mr. Dean stopped.
“It is quite right to believe everything in the Bible,” said Jessica, in the voice which had won the heart of practically every woman between seventeen and seventy, for of the men we do not speak, as they are well known to have little box-office value except for non-stop revue at which the dwindling male population of England may be found every afternoon in masses under the erroneous impression that it is being shocked. “But it’s no use discussing it, because no one knows what it really means.”
Mr. Fanshawe, who was very fond in
