Of this intimacy chaffing was a gauge.
Bennington Clarence de Laney always glowed at heart when they rubbed
his fur the wrong way, for it showed that they felt they knew him well
enough to do so. And in this there was something just a little
pathetic.
Bennington held to the society standpoint with men, so he thought he
must keep up a conversation. He did so. It was laboured. Bennington
thought of things to say about Art, the Theatre, and Books. Hench and
Beck looked at each other from time to time.
Finally the door opened, and, to the relief of all, two sweatered and
white-ducked individuals appeared.
"And now, Jeems, we'll smoke the pipe of peace," suggested Bert, diving
for the mantel and the pipe rack.
"Correct, my boy," responded Jeems, doing likewise. They lit up, and
turned with simultaneous interest to their latest caller.
"And how is the proud plutocrat?" inquired Bert; "and how did he
contrive to get leave to visit us rude and vulgar persons?"
The Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined
there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein.
"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him.
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