Turning to Sir Walter Cholmondeliegh, he said: "I was sent by Lady Beaumont to express her hope that you were not going yet, Sir Walter.

She says she has scarcely seen anything of you." The old gentleman, still red in the face, had a temporary internal struggle; then his good manners triumphed, and with a gesture of obeisance and a vague utterance of, "If Lady Beaumont...

a lady, of course," he followed the young man back into the salon.

He had scarcely been deposited there half a minute before another peal of laughter told that he had (in all probability) been scored off again.
"Of course, I can excuse dear old Cholmondeliegh," said Beaumont, as he helped us off with our coats.

"He has not the modern mind." "What is the modern mind ?" asked Grant.
"Oh, it's enlightened, you know, and progressive--and faces the facts of life seriously." At this moment another roar of laughter came from within.
"I only ask," said Basil, "because of the last two friends of yours who had the modern mind; one thought it wrong to eat fishes and the other thought it right to eat men.