Bishop performed the necessary introductions, which each
acknowledged after his fashion, but with an apparent indifference
that dashed Orde, accustomed to a more Western cordiality. Mrs.
Bishop held out a languidly graceful hand, the boy mumbled a
greeting, the young man nodded lazily over his newspaper. Only
General Bishop, recognising him, arose and grasped his hand, with a
real, though rather fussy, warmth.

"My dear sir," he cried, "I am honoured to see you again. This, my
dear," he addressed his wife, "is the young man I was telling you
about--in the street car," he explained.

"How very interesting," said Mrs. Bishop, with evidently no
comprehension and less interest.

Gerald Bishop cast an ironically amused glance across at Orde. The
boy looked up at him quickly, the sullenness for a moment gone from
his face.

Carroll Bishop appeared quite unconscious of an atmosphere which
seemed to Orde strained, but sank into her place at the table and
unfolded her napkin. The silent butler drew forward a chair for
Orde, and stood looking impassively in Mrs. Bishop's direction.

"You will have some breakfast with us?" she inquired. "No? A cup
of coffee, at least?"

She began to manipulate the coffee pot, without paying the slightest
attention to Orde's disclaimer. The general puffed out his cheeks,
and coughed a bit in embarrassment.