Poor things! How can they have any feelings left ?" "There was no piano in the room, Granny, and the company separated very soon after dinner." "Somehow you ought to have managed it, Ethel." Then with a touch of anxiety, "I hope all this cleverness was natural--I mean, I hope it wasn't champagne.

You know, Ethel, we think as we drink, and Fred isn't used to those frisky wines.

Mostyn cellars are full of old sherry and claret, and Fred's father was always against frothing, sparkling wines." "Granny, it was all Fred.

Wine had nothing to do with it, but a certain woman had; in fact, she was the inspirer, and Fred fell fifty fathoms deep in love with her the very moment she entered the room.

He heard not, felt not, thought not, so struck with love was he.