‘I suppose so,’ said Mr. Farringdon, rather ungraciously. ‘There’ll be an awful crowd anyway.’
‘Then we can always stuff in one more,’ said Miss Flaxman. ‘Don’t mind, Leo, Reggie; he’s mislaid his manners this morning.’
Mr. Pomfret appeared to think that somebody else’s manners had also been mislaid, for he replied with more spirit than Harriet had expected of him:
‘I’m sorry; I’m afraid I’m engaged. Miss Vane is coming to tea with me.’
‘Another time will do for that,’ said Harriet.
‘Oh, no,’ said Mr. Pomfret.
‘Couldn’t you both come along, then, afterwards?’ said Mr. Farringdon. ‘Always room for one more, as Catherine says.’ He turned to Harriet. ‘I hope you will come, Miss Vane. We should be delighted.’
‘Well—’ said Harriet. It was Miss Flaxman’s turn to look sulky.
‘I say,’ said
