of
society. They had an idea that he disappointed duchesses to come down to
Little Primpton, and always felt that it was a condescension on his part
to put up with their simple manners. They altered their hours; luncheon
was served at the middle of the day, and dinner in the evening.

Mrs. Parsons put on a Sabbath garment of black silk to receive her
brother, and round her neck a lace fichu. When he arrived with Colonel
Parsons from the station, she went into the hall to meet him.

"Well, William, have you had a pleasant journey?"

"Oh, yes, yes! I came down with the prettiest woman I've seen for many a
long day. I made eyes at her all the way, but she wouldn't look at me."

"William, William!" expostulated Mr. Parsons, smiling.

"You see he hasn't improved since we saw him last, Frances," laughed the
Colonel, leading the way into the drawing-room.

"No harm in looking at a pretty woman, you know. I'm a bachelor still,
thank the Lord! That reminds me of a funny story I heard at the club."

"Oh, we're rather frightened of your stories, William," said Mrs.
Parsons.

"Yes, you're very risky sometimes," assented the Colonel,
good-humouredly shaking his head.

Major Forsyth was anecdotal, as is only decent in an old bachelor, and
he made a speciality of stories which he thought wicked, but which, as a
matter of fact, would not have brought a blush to any cheek less
innocent than that of Colonel Parsons.

"There's no harm in a little spice," said Uncle William. "And you're a
married woman, Frances."

He told an absolutely pointless story of how a man had helped a young
woman across the street, and seen her ankle in the process. He told it
with immense gusto, laughing and repeating the point at least six times.

"William, William!" laughed Colonel Parsons, heartily. "You should keep
those things for the smoking-room."

"What d'you think of it, Frances?" asked the gallant Major, still hugely
enjoying the joke.

Mrs. Parsons blushed a little, and for decency's sake prevented herself
from smiling; she felt rather wicked.

"I don't want to hear any more of your tales, William."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Uncle William, "I knew you'd like it. And that one I
told you in the fly, Richmond--you know, about the petticoat."

"Sh-sh!" said the Colonel, smiling. "You can't tell that to a lady."

"P'r'aps I'd better not. But it's a good story, though."

They both laughed.

"I think it's dreadful the things you men talk abou