I hardly consider it complimentary to be labeled as someone who — how did Arthur so colorfully put it? — threw over Irene Minter. The girl is not a javelin.

Arthur burst into laughter.

Mrs. Eliot smiled with an expectant look, waiting for whatever was funny to drift over her way and make her laugh, too.

That was the older one, Winn, Lilian said without enthusiasm. We were talking about Gilbert.

She’d learned his name in the five years since he’d looked at her at the Crooks’ garden party. She saw him now and then, across the street at the Fourth of July parade, hidden in a hat, or down at the end of a long yellow porch at the Lorings’ Labor Day tea. He’d been at Eleanor Crook’s wedding to Charlie Sprague; she’d noticed him loitering out in the driveway with the chauffeurs. She had read something about him somewhere, oh yes, in her father’s Harvard Alumni Magazine in an article about curling. Curling!

He must prefer talking to children over adults, Lilian said. I’ve never heard him utter more than two words.

He seemed to have a lot to say to Nita Russell, Mrs. Eliot said. Though I guess she’s Bancroft now, even though …

What was she doing there? Lilian said.

Ada Amory says she’s moved home, said Mrs. Eliot.

Was that the unfortunate … ? Mr. Eliot frowned over his potatoes.

Yes, said Mrs. Eliot.

There was a pause in the conversation.

Arthur said, I liked Jim Bancroft. He was wild.

And look where it got him, said Mrs. Eliot. He was driving that boat too fast anyway.

I’m surprised she’s come back to Boston, Lilian said.

Very sweet girl, said Mrs. Eliot. Anyway, he asked after you.

Who did?

Gilbert Finch.

He asked after me? Lilian recalled the strange pale eyes, and how they’d looked at her without embarrassment.

I had to ask Sally Kimball who he was. I get those young people so confused.

What did he say?

Who?

Gilbert Finch!

He said, hello, Mrs. Eliot, how’s Lilian?

And what did you say?

Very well, thank you. I didn’t know who he was.

And then what did he say?

Fascinating conversation, Arthur said.

You know, I just don’t remember, said Mrs. Eliot.

Lilian mumbled, He was just being polite.

Something the whole table might like to hear? boomed Mr. Eliot.

Lilian stuck out her chin.

Sally Kimball seemed to think he’d had some trouble with, you know, in the war. Mrs. Eliot anchored her glass while Patrick poured more wine. Mr. Eliot had conceded to bootleg after a long coolness on Mrs. Eliot’s part, but restricted the alcohol to the dinner table.

Welcome to the club, said Arthur though he’d not been a member. He indicated to Patrick with a grand smile to keep pouring in his glass.

What’s he doing these days? Lilian said.