Cicely had successfully insisted on having her own way concerning the projected supper-party; Yeovil had said nothing further in opposition to it, whatever his feelings on the subject might be.

Having gained her point, however, she was anxious to give her husband the impression of having been consulted, and to put her victory as far as possible on the footing of a compromise.

It was also rather a relief to be able to discuss the matter out of range of Joan's disconcerting tongue and observant eyes.
"I hope you are not really annoyed about this silly supper-party," she said on the morning before the much-talked-of first night.

"I had pledged myself to give it, so I couldn't back out without seeming mean to Gorla, and in any case it would have been impolitic to cry off." "Why impolitic ?" asked Yeovil coldly.
"It would give offence in quarters where I don't want to give offence," said Cicely.
"In quarters where the fait accompli is an object of solicitude," said Yeovil.
"Look here," said Cicely in her most disarming manner, "it's just as well to be perfectly frank about the whole matter.

If one wants to live in the London of the present day one must make up one's mind to accept the fait accompli with as good a grace as possible.