Mavis was surprised to see Mr Poulter’s gentle expression at once change to a look of intense anger.

“Gellybrand’s!  Gellybrand’s!  The scoundrel!” cried Mr Poulter, as he thumped his fist upon the table.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know,” said Mavis.

“What?  You haven’t heard of the rivalry between mushroom Gellybrand’s and old-established ’Poulter’s’?” exclaimed Mr Poulter.

Mavis did not know what to say.

“Some people is ignorant!” commented Miss Nippett at her silence.

“Gellybrand is the greatest scoundrel and blackleg in the history of dancing,” continued Poulter.  Then, as if to clinch the matter, he added, “Poulter’s ‘Special and Select’ is two shillings, with carriages at eleven.  Gellybrand’s is one and six, with carriages at eleven thirty.”

“Disgraceful!” commented Mavis, who was anxious to soothe Poulter’s ruffled sensibilities.

“That is not all.  Poulter’s oranges, when light refreshments are supplied, are cut in eights; Gellybrand’s”—­here the old man’s voice quivered with indignation—­“oranges are cut in sixes.”

“An unfair advantage,” remarked Mavis.

“That’s not all.  Gellybrand once declared that I had actually stooped so low as to kiss a married pupil.”

“Disgraceful!” said Mavis gravely.

“Of course, the statement carried its own refutation, as no gentleman could ever demean himself so much as to kiss another gentleman’s wife.”

“That’s what I say,” cried Miss Nippett.

“But Gellybrand foully libelled me,” cried Mr Poulter, with another outburst of anger, “when he stated that I only paid one and fourpence a pound for my tea.”

This last recollection so troubled Mr Poulter that Miss Nippett suggested that it was time for him to go and dress.  As he left the room, he said to Mavis: 

“Pray never mention Gellybrand’s name in my presence.  If I weren’t an artiste, I wouldn’t mind; as it is, I’m all of a tremble.”

Mavis promised that she would not, at which the old man’s face wore its usual kindly expression.  When he was gone, Miss Nippett exclaimed: 

“Oh, why ever did you?”

“How was I to know?” Mavis asked.

“I thought everyone knew.  Don’t, whatever you do, don’t again.  It makes him angrier than he was when once the band eat up all the light refreshments.”

“He’s a very charming man,” remarked Mavis.

“But his brains!  It’s his brains that fetches me.”

“Really!”

“In addition to ‘Poulter’s Patent Floor Wax,’ he’s invented the
‘Clacton Schottische,’ the ‘Ramsgate Galop,’ and the ’Coronation
Quadrilles.’”

“He must be clever.”

“Of course; he’s on the grand council of the ‘B.A.T.D.’”

“What is that?”

“What?  You don’t know what ‘B.A.T.D.’ is?” cried Miss Nippett in astonishment.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” replied Mavis.