"Of course, I won't go if you don't like it, Doris," said Meadows with
the smile of magnanimity.
"I thought you were angry with me--once--for even suggesting that you
might!" Doris's tone was light, but not pleasing to a husband's ears.
She was busy at the moment in packing up the American proofs of the
Disraeli lecture, which at last with infinite difficulty she had
persuaded Meadows to correct and return.
"Well--but of course--this is exceptional!" said Meadows, pacing up and
down irresolutely.
"Everything's exceptional--in that quarter," said Doris, in the same
tone. "Oh, go, of course!--it would be a thousand pities not to go."
Meadows at once took her at her word. That was the first of a series of
"male" dinners, to which, however, it seemed to Doris, if one might
judge from Arthur's accounts, that a good many female exceptions were
admitted, no doubt by way of proving the rule. And during July, Meadows
lunched in town--in the lofty regions of St. James's or Mayfair--with
other enthusiastic women admirers, most of them endowed with long purses
and long pedigrees, at least three or four times a week.
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