Talk of the Town by Joan Smith

to the Prince, nor what he had in mind with regard to her aunt, she was very happy, indeed, to see Effie achieve such a pinnacle. Daphne was positively glowing and looking very beautiful, indeed, in her new gown when St. Felix was announced, to top this splendid day. She didn’t immediately grasp the import of his opening volley.
    “What have you got against that pair?” was his first remark but saved from ill manners by the smile that accompanied it.
    “What? Oh—you cannot think we are holding him to ransom!”
    “I wouldn’t put it past you,” he replied, taking up a seat without waiting to be offered one.
    “No, no, we draw the line at royal dukes. You smaller fish are fair game, but Prince George and his brothers are above our touch.”
    “What was he doing here?” he asked. From having so often had Miss Ingleside on his mind, he felt he knew her better than he actually did and didn’t realize the question was an impertinence till it was spoken.
    “I don’t know. There is more than one gentleman whose reason for coming to our apartment is not quite clear to me. Yourself, for example.”
    “But I was invited the other day at Richmond Park, if you recall.”
    “Invited to bring us gold! I don’t see any.”
    “And you never will, Miss Ingleside. Not from me, in any case.”
    “You are come for another argument then,” she sighed wearily, while her eyes sparkled with happiness. “What are you going to tell me you won’t do this time?”
    Again he smiled, with something coming quite close to naturalness. “Not argue with you, as that is obviously what you have in mind to make me do.”
    “I think you just wanted the pleasure of admiring our new blue room again.”
    He ignored this repetition of his predilection for blue and said, “How did you enjoy your presentation at the Queen’s Drawing Room?”
    “It was a dead loss. There wasn’t a bit of scandal to keep me busy. I might as well have stayed away for all I gained there.”
    “No, you are not going to lure me into an argument, Miss Ingleside. I know that even you did not go there looking for scandal.”
    “You are determined to wave a white flag at me then?”
    “Oh, no, a white flag signifies surrender, does it not?”
    “And is it only to be a truce?”
    “Hostilities may reopen any moment. When I hear your intentions regarding my sister’s tea party, for instance,” he said leadingly. Yet he was becoming resigned to the idea she would attend and even taking some pleasure from it. With the Prince Regent calling on Mrs. Pealing, it was foolish to go on calling her an upstart. She was brazen and she had a regrettable history, but she had originally been of a good family and had apparently managed to reinstate herself within the bounds of Society.
    “So you know about that! I rather thought Lady Elizabeth had squirmed out from under your thumb and sent the card without your permission."
    “The card did not have my approval, as you rightly imagined.”
    “I am happy to hear your sister treats your commands with the disrespect they deserve.”
    “What makes you suppose I issued any commands in the matter?”
    “That disagreeable Friday face you are wearing. And don’t tell me you didn’t come here to argue. You mean to demand that we not accept the invitation. Well, I shall take the wind out of your sail and inform you we have sent a refusal.”
    “Indeed! May I know why?”
    “You may, if Lady Elizabeth decides to tell you. I cannot feel it necessary to make an explanation to anyone but her.”
    He thought he had come to tell her she must under no circumstances accept the invitation and suddenly found himself growing angry that she had refused it of her own accord. Mrs. Pealing scarcely figured in his reckonings at all. It had become an affair between himself and Miss Ingleside, and she had outdone him again. “But is it not what you wanted?” he asked, confused.
    “Certainly not! We never wanted anything of the sort. My aunt