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After we had been knocking about perhaps a week, we landed one noon at the private pier of the Liscombes to lunch with them. As Sandys and I strolled toward the front of the house, several people, also guests for lunch, were just descending from a long buckboard. At sight of one of them I stopped short inside, though I mechanically continued to walk toward her.
"I doubt if our friends would prefer meeting our neighbours, whom they don't know, to visiting with ourselves, whom they do however egotistic that may sound." "I want to make things gay for you," explained Camellia; "and the Latimers and the Elliots are very gay." The Judge only lifted his handsome eyebrows. "And the Liscombes are lovely," went on Camellia. "Mrs. Liscombe sings."
The Judge spends his evenings here when I don't actually force him to go out with me and I spend mine down in the pleasanter quarters. I have the Liscombes and the Latimers in very often, but he never comes down if he can avoid it. They understand he's eccentric, and we let it go at that." She spoke with the air of being a most kindly and forbearing wife.
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