r her, &c., &c.

Here Geoffrey broke in without much ceremony. To him it seemed a
desecration to listen while this person was making his feeble jokes
about Beatrice.

"Well, dear," he said, addressing his wife, "and what have you been
doing with yourself all this time?"

"Mourning for you, Geoffrey, and enjoying myself exceedingly in the
intervals. We have had a delightful time, have we not, Mr. Dunstan? Mr.
Dunstan has also been staying at the Hall, you know."

"How could it be otherwise when you were there, Lady Honoria?" answered
the Saint in that strain of compliment affected by such men, and which,
to tell the truth, jarred on its object, who was after all a lady.

"You know, Geoffrey," she went on, "the Garsingtons have re-furnished
the large hall and their drawing-room. It cost eighteen hundred pounds,
but the result is lovely. The drawing-room is done in hand-painted white
satin, walls and all, and the hall in old oak."

"Indeed!" he answered, reflecting the while that Lord Garsington might
as well have paid some of his debts before he spent eighteen hundred
pounds on his drawing-room furniture.

Then the Saint and Lady Honoria drifted into a long and animated
conversation about their fellow guests, which Geoffrey scarcely tried to
follow. Indeed, the dinner was a dull one for him, and he added little
or nothing to the stock of talk.

When his wife left the room, however, he had to say something, so they
spoke of shooting. The Saint had a redeeming feature--he was somewhat of
a sportsman, though a poor one, and he described to Geoffrey a new pair
of hammerless guns, which he had bought for a trifling sum of a hundred
and forty guineas, recommending the pattern to his notice.

"Yes," answered Geoffrey, "I daresay that they are very nice; but, you
see, they are beyond me. A poor man cannot afford so much for a pair of
guns."

"Oh, if that is all," answered his guest, "I will sell you these; they
are a little long in the stock for me, and you can pay me when you like.
Or, hang it all, I have plenty of guns. I'll be generous and give them
to you. If I cannot afford to be generous, I don't know who can!"

"Thank you very much, Mr. Dunstan," answered Geoffrey coldly, "but I am
not in the habit of accepting such presents from my--acquaintances. Will
you have a glass of sherry?--no. Then shall we join Lady Honoria?"

This speech quite crushed the vulgar but not ill-meaning Saint, and
Geoffrey was sorry for