"There was a space left for the wedding, the greatest event the
'Traveller's Joy' had ever had on record," said Sydney, as she
touched up the etching at the top of her paper, sitting on a low
stool by a low mother-of-pearl inlaid Eastern table.
"The greatest and the last," chimed in Babie, as she worked away at
the lace she was finishing for the bride.
"I don't see why it should be the last of the poor old 'Joy,'" said
Lord Fordham, sorting the MSS. which were scattered round him on the
ground.
"Well, somehow I feel as if we had come to the end of a division of
our lives," returned Babie.
"Having done with swaddling bands, eh, Infanta?" said Lord Fordham,
while Armine hastily sketched in pen and ink, Babie, with her hair
flying and swaddling bands off, executing a war-dance. She did not
like it.
"For shame, Armine! Don't you know how dreadful it is to lose dear
Miss Ogilvie?"
"Of course, Babie," said her brother, "I didn't think you were such a
Babie as not to know that things go by contraries."
"It is too tender a spot for irony, Armie," said Lord Fordham.
"Well," said Armine, "I shall be obliged to do something outrageous
presently, so look out!"
"Not really!" said Sydney.
"Yes, really," said Babie, recovering; "I see what he means.
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