And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. He had adroitly captured her and led her away from her other guests on the pretext of feigning an interest in her charitable attitude to the newly arrived French. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. " "If it were so, he would have great reason to be proud of the relationship, truly," observed Wood, shrugging his shoulders. Her little white hand stole across the table.
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