and brightest in the metropolis. Not, of course, that Arminius comes within the purview of this misdirected criticism; his far-flung gaze surmounted by a noble topper, astrachan collar inches deeper than the heir's, white spats by Grant and Cockburn, and a very snappy pair of gloves.
The far-flung gaze of Arminius Wingrove has seen the vacant places at the table, although he affecteth not to notice 'em.
"How d'ye do, Lady Adela. When did you return from High Cliff?"
Rude girl slowly raised a fin.
"Awful good of you, Fat—Minnie, I mean—old boy." The heir, stronger for his liquid sustenance, spoke in tones of deep emotion. "Sit here, Miss Caspar, won't you? I know you are Miss Caspar, I've seen you so often lately."
General introductions, which even the best society seems at present unable to dispense with.
Nice, sensible Cousin Jane from Cumberland smiled so kind and pleasant, and thought they ought to have more tea.
"And what's your choice in cakes, Miss Caspar?" said the young man brightly. "Scones or muffins or some of those toppin' things with sugar on 'em."
"Thanks, anything'll do for me," said the Principal Girl, as easy as if she was playing Cinderella. "No
