You have had no opera to-night, my dear ?" "You would not expect me to go alone?
Phyllis was dining at the Earlscourts'," said the wife.
"You are the soul of discretion, my beloved," said the husband.

"Is your stock of phrases equal to a suggestion as to what instrument is the soul of a woman, Ayrton ?" he added.

"Her heart is a barometer, her toilet a thermometer, and her soul----" "The soul of a woman is not an instrument, but a flower--a lily," said Mr.Ayrton.
"And my wife wears her soul upon her sleeve," said Mr.Linton, touching the design on the lace that fell from her shoulders.
"But not for daws to peck at--that is the heart," laughed Mr.Ayrton.
"Talking of woman's soul, how is Lady Earlscourt ?" he added, to his daughter.
"I was so sorry that I was at that stupid dinner," said Phyllis.

"I might have enjoyed the music of 'Romeo and Juliet.' But I had engaged myself to Lady Earlscourt a fortnight ago." "You did not see Lord Earlscourt, at any rate," said her father.
"No; he left us in the evening for Southampton," said Phyllis.
"And, curiously enough, I dined with him at the club," said her father.
"Yes, he came in with Herbert Courtland at half-past seven; he had met Courtland and persuaded him to join him in his cruise to Norway.

They dined at my table, and by the time we had finished Courtland's man had arrived with his bag.