clear and even dazzling future to offer her.

In his aunts' drawing-room he heard with but muffled ears those usual
questions: How was his dear father? Not going out, of course, now that
the weather was turning chilly? Would Soames be sure to tell him that
Hester had found boiled holly leaves most comforting for that pain in her
side; a poultice every three hours, with red flannel afterwards. And
could he relish just a little pot of their very best prune preserve--it
was so delicious this year, and had such a wonderful effect. Oh! and
about the Darties--had Soames heard that dear Winifred was having a most
distressing time with Montague? Timothy thought she really ought to have
protection It was said--but Soames mustn't take this for certain--that he
had given some of Winifred's jewellery to a dreadful dancer. It was such
a bad example for dear Val just as he was going to college. Soames had
not heard? Oh, but he must go and see his sister and look into it at
once! And did he think these Boers were really going to resist? Timothy
was in quite a stew about it. The price of Consols was so high, and he
had such a lot of money in them. Did Soames think they must go down if
there was a war? Soames nodded. But it would be over very quickly. It
would be so bad for Timothy if it wasn't. And of course Soames' dear
father would feel it very much at his age. Luckily poor dear Roger had
been spared this dreadful anxiety. And Aunt Juley with a little
handkerchief wiped away the large tear trying to climb the permanent pout
on her now quite withered left cheek; she was remembering dear Roger, and
all his originality, and how he used to stick pins into her when they
were little together. Aunt Hester, with her instinct for avoiding the
unpleasant, here chimed in: Did Soames think they would make Mr.
Chamberlain Prime Minister at once? He would settle it all so quickly.
She would like to see that old Kruger sent to St. Helena. She could
remember so well the news of Napoleon's death, and what a, relief it had
been to his grandfather. Of course she and Juley--"We were in
pantalettes then, my dear"--had not felt it much at the time.

Soames took a cup of tea from her, drank it quickly, and ate three of
those macaroons for which Timothy's was famous. His faint, pale,
supercilious smile had deepened just a little. Really, his family
remained hopelessly provincial, however much of London they might possess
between them.