“Give me some sherry, then,” said the doctor.

The little dishes which had been brought round after the fish, three in number,—and they in the proper order of things should have been spoken of before the champagne,—had been in their way successful. They had been so fabricated, that all they who attempted to eat of their contents became at once aware that they had got hold of something very nasty, something that could hardly have been intended by Christian cooks as food for men; but, nevertheless, there had been something of glory attending them. Little dishes require no concomitant vegetables, and therefore there had been no scrambling. Grandairs brought one round after the other with much majesty, while Elizabeth stood behind looking on in wonder. After the second little dish Grandairs changed the plates, so that it was possible to partake of two, a feat which was performed by Tom Mackenzie the younger. At this period Mrs Mackenzie, striving hard for equanimity, attempted a word or two with the doctor. But immediately upon that came the affair of the champagne, and she was crushed, never to rise again.

Mr Rubb at this time had settled down into so pleasant a little series of whispers with his neighbour, that Miss Colza resolved once more to exert herself, not with the praiseworthy desire of assisting her friend Mrs Mackenzie, but with malice prepense in reference to Miss Mackenzie.

Miss Mackenzie seemed to be having “a good time” with her neighbour Samuel Rubb, junior, and Miss Colza, who was a woman of courage, could not see that and not make an effort. It cannot be told here what passages there had been between Mr Rubb and Miss Colza. That there had absolutely been passages I beg the reader to understand. “Mr Rubb,” she said, stretching across the table, “do you remember when, in this very room, we met Mr and Mrs Talbot Green?”

“Oh yes, very well,” said Mr Rubb, and then turning to Miss Mackenzie, he went on with his little whispers.

“Mr Rubb,” continued Miss Colza, “does anybody put you in mind of Mrs Talbot Green?”

“Nobody in particular. She was a thin, tall, plain woman, with red hair, wasn’t she? Who ought she to put me in mind of?”

“Oh dear! how can you forget so? That wasn’t her looks at all. We all agreed that she was quite interesting-looking. Her hair was just fair, and that was all. But I shan’t say anything more about it.”

“But who do you say is like her?”

“Miss Colza means Aunt Margaret,” said Mary Jane.

“Of course I do,” said Miss Colza. “But Mrs Talbot Green was not at all the person that Mr Rubb has described; we all thought her very nice-looking. Mr Rubb, do you remember how you would go on talking to her, till Mr Talbot Green did not like it at all?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh, but you did; and you always do.”

Then Miss Colza ceased, having finished that effort. But she made others from time to time as long as they remained in the dining-room, and by no means gave up the battle. There are women who can fight such battles when they have not an inch of ground on which to stand.