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"Erne was ahead; 'n' just as Warry rose up from th' throat-cuttin', Erne dropped into th' weeds 'n' rolled 'n' 'round holdin' o' his stummick, laughin' fit t' kill his fool self, till I thought he'd gone crazy.
"Can't you come over to my box for lunch? I've asked Lula Chandos and Warry Trowbridge." It was not without appropriateness that Trixton Brent called his house the "Box." It was square, with no pretensions to architecture whatever, with a porch running all the way around it.
"I have known for months that you worshiped each other." "If you mean to imply" he began severely. "Hit somebody of your size, Warry," she interrupted cheerfully, as to an infant.
Catching a hint of a yarn, I asked if there were many three-legged deer in the bush. "W'an't but one ever, far 's I know," he replied. "'N' almighty lucky it was for Warry that one come a-limpin' along his way, for it give him th' only chance he'll probably ever have to say he got to shoot a deer. "Warry?
"My experience with your sex," he declared enigmatically, "has not been a slight one." "Trixy!" interrupted Mrs. Chandos at this juncture, from his other side, "Warry Trowbridge won't tell me whether to sell my Consolidated Potteries stock." "Because he doesn't know," said Mr. Brent, laconically, and readdressed himself to Honora, who had, however, caught a glimpse of Mrs. Chandos' face.
Brent threw back his head and laughed. "You haven't got it anyway, Warry," he cried. Mr. Trowbridge, who resembled a lean and greying Irish terrier, maintained that he had. "It's a pity you don't ride, Lula. I understand that that's one of the best preventives for gout. I bought a horse last week that would just suit you an ideal woman's horse. He's taken a couple of blue ribbons this summer."
"I'll take a little," she said weakly; "it's so bad for my gout." "What," asked Trixton Brent, flashing an amused glance at Honora, "are the symptoms of gout, Lula? I hear a great deal about that trouble these days, but it seems to affect every one differently." Mrs. Chandos grew very red, but Warry Trowbridge saved her. "It's a swelling," he said innocently.
"Talk about your war 'n' patriotic songs, your 'Rule Britannias' 'n' 'Maple Leaves, your church hymns 'n' love songs, 'n' fancy French op'ras like they have down t' Ottawa that Warry Hilliams took me to wonst!
"What do you think of him?" he asked. "He's adorable," declared Honora. Would you like to try him?" "Oh might I? Sometime?" "Why not to-day now?" he said. "I'll send him over to your house and have your saddle put on him." Before Honora could protest Mrs. Chandos came forward. "It's awfully sweet of you, Trixy, to offer to send me to Fanny's, but Warry says he will drive me over.
The other Hayman; two married sons of Nicholas, together with Tweetyman, Spender, and Warry, the husbands of married Forsyte and Hayman daughters. The company was then complete, twenty-one in all, not a male member of the family being absent but Timothy and young Jolyon.
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