In great agitation Miss Heap turned to Mrs. Ridding, whose mind, galvanized by the magic words Twist and Twinkler, was slowly heaving itself free of aspic.  “Perhaps we had best go back to the hotel, Mrs Ridding,” said Miss Heap, her voice shaking.  “There’s something I wish particularly to tell you.  I ought to have done so this morning, directly I knew, but I had no idea of course that this....”  She waved a hand at the signboard, and collapsed into speechlessness.

“Albert—­hotel,” directed Mrs. Ridding.

And Mr. Ridding, clutching the leaflet, his face congested with suppressed emotions, obediently handed on the order through the speaking-tube to the chauffeur.

CHAPTER XXXI

“It’s perfect,” said the twins, looking round the tea-room.

This was next day, at a quarter to four.  They had been looking round saying it was perfect at intervals since the morning.  Each time they finished getting another of the little tables ready, each time they brought in and set down another bowl of flowers they stood back and gazed a moment in silence, and then said with one voice, “It’s perfect.”

Mr. Twist, though the house was not, as we have seen, quite as sober, quite as restrained in its effect as he had intended, was obliged to admit that it did look very pretty.  And so did the Annas.  Especially the Annas.  They looked so pretty in the sea-blue frocks and little Dutch caps and big muslin aprons that he took off his spectacles and cleaned them carefully so as to have a thoroughly uninterrupted view; and as they stood at a quarter to four gazing round the room, he stood gazing at them, and when they said “It’s perfect,” he said, indicating them with his thumb, “Same here,” and then they all laughed for they were all very happy, and Mrs. Bilton, arrayed exactly as Mr. Twist had pictured her when he engaged her in handsome black, her white hair beautifully brushed and neat, crossed over to the Annas and gave each of them a hearty kiss—­for luck, she said—­which Mr. Twist watched with an odd feeling of jealousy.

“I’d like to do that,” he thought, filled with a sudden desire to hug.  Then he said it out loud.  “I’d like to do that,” he said boldly.  And added, “As it’s the opening day.”

“I don’t think it would afford you any permanent satisfaction,” said Anna-Felicitas placidly.  “There’s nothing really to be gained, we think, by kissing.  Of course,” she added politely to Mrs. Bilton, “we like it very much as an expression of esteem.”

“Then why not in that spirit—­” began Mr. Twist.

“We don’t hold with kissing,” said Anna-Rose quickly, turning very red.  Intolerable to be kissed en famille.  If it had to be done at all, kissing should be done quietly, she thought.  But she and Anna-Felicitas didn’t hold with it anyhow.  Never.  Never.  To her amazement she found tears in her eyes.  Well, of all the liquid idiots....  It must be that she was so happy.  She had never been so happy.  Where on earth had her handkerchief got to....