She sucked her teeth in a disappointed sound, and made a face of mock disappointed, 'and I'd only just finished saying that you were interesting. How quickly some gentleman leap in to contradict a lady', Christabel gave a little shrug of 'oh well' her face a picture of mock innocence, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

'I feel rather sorry for the party that you've just left if this' she gestured to the house and the strains of the band in the air, 'Is the most interesting thing that's happened to you today.' In spite of being 26 years old, Christabel was, still, a gently bred member of the ascendancy. Her knowledge of why her brother didn't want her in attendance at the house party and the sort of shenangians that could be counted upon occurring, especially house parties hosted by this particular Prewett, was remarkably low.

'Just this season, or overall?' she added in response to his question. Christabel enjoyed dancing, the physical act, but not the preamble and fussing that came with dancing at a ball, and worse yet, as the years had progressed the number of dances she had stood up at a ball had decreased and so an evening spent loitering around the edges of the ballroom, pretending to care about the colour of Miss Abernathys stockings, or Mister Wainscots cravat pin meant her tolerance for the events was remarkably low - and yet she knew she had to go, to still be seen to be making some effort with society life. She wasn't Porphyria, she wasn't sure she could live the melodramatic life of a spinster.

'But really arn't they all the same? I'm sure I've already seen this band play at 6 events this month! The violinist will be flat on the 4th note of every second bar - listen for it' she held up her hand and sure enough as the note came around there was a vaguely painful squeal from the cat gut. 'Sticking a new theme on the same music surely makes all of the events the same in their fundamentals. IS your preference then for private parties? Smaller more intimate groups?'

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