Mrs.Bullsom, reduced to a state of chaotic nervousness, was pushed as far into the background as possible by her daughters, and Mr.Bullsom, banished from the hearth where he felt surest of himself, plunged into a conversation with Mr.Seventon on the weather.

Brooks leaned over towards Mary.
"Wednesday week at eight o'clock, then," he said.

"I want to have a chat with you about the subject." "Not now," she interposed.

"You know these people, don't you, and the Huntingdons?
Go and talk to them, please." Brooks laughed, and went to the rescue.

He won Mrs.Bullsom's eternal gratitude by diverting Mrs.Seventon's attention from her, and thereby allowing her a moment or two to recover herself.