"A party--your guardian is quite right--we were remiss--of course Madame
would have wished--in the old days--it must be at least an at-home--yes,
an at-home--I have found the cards of the best people of the county in
Madame's desk--Harkness will know who of them have died--yes, an
at-home, say from four to seven--Mr. Allendyce and his sister will come
to help you receive--I will talk to Budge--yes--" Mr. Tubbs rarely
finished a sentence. He always spoke as though he were thinking
memoranda aloud, and punctuated his words with little tugs at his silky
Van Dyke beard.
Robin had a rebellious impulse to snatch the fluttering lists from his
long fingers and tear the "best people of the county" into tiny bits but
she remembered what Beryl had said about a Forsyth having to do many
things, smothered a sigh, and said meekly: "I don't know much about
parties."
"My dear young lady, experience will teach you. They are important--yes,
for one of your station--important as your books. I will see
Budge--about the date--yes."
"Old grandmother!" cried Beryl, as Mr. Tubbs went off in search of the
housekeeper. "An at-home!" She mimicked his precise tones.
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