at fault. For how could one who had so long been accustomed to the best English society show other than good manners?
In the course of conversation my sister enquired the reason of his absence from last week's tennis party.
He had accepted an invitation to the Mullicks that day, he explained.
"I had refused them so often," he continued, "that I had not the heart to do so again. Did you really expect me? If I had known that I would sooner have sacrificed a thousand Mullicks."
"I say, Romanath," broke in my brother-in-law, "don't get so very eloquent, it might make me jealous, you know."
"What songs had you after dinner?" my sister enquired. "Does not Miss Mullick sing well?"
"Mr. Roy smiled as he replied,
"Yes—at least that is her reputation, the general belief. What a lovely colour, it suits your complexion beautifully."
The last remark applied to the colour I wore. My seat at the table was beside him, but no conversation of any importance passed between us. My brother-in-law conversed with him on political topics. He spoke
