Mr. Darrell!" she added, in another
tone, holding out an indifferent hand. "Where is Kitty?" She looked
round her.

"Shall we order lunch?" said Darrell, who had given her a greeting as
careless as her own.

"Kitty is really too bad; she is never less than an hour late," said
Mrs. Alcot, seating herself. "Last time she dined with us I asked her
for seven-thirty. She thought something very special must be happening,
and arrived--breathless--at half-past eight. Then she was furious with
me because she was not the last. But one can't do it twice.
Well"--addressing herself to Cliffe--"are you come home to stay?"

"That depends," said Cliffe, "on whether England makes itself agreeable
to me."

"What are your deserts? Why should England be agreeable to you?" she
replied, with a smiling sharpness. "You do nothing but croak about
England."

Thus challenged, Cliffe sat down beside her and they fell into a
bantering conversation. Darrell, though inwardly wounded by the small
trouble they took to include him, let nothing appear, put in a word now
and then, or turned over the pages of the illustrated books.

After five minutes a fresh guest arrived. In walked the little Dean, Dr.
Winston, who had originally made acquaintance with Lady Kitty at
Grosville Park. He came in overflowing with spirits and enthusiasm. He
had been spending the morning in Westminster Abbey with another Dean
more famous though not more charming than himself, and with yet another
congenial spirit, one of the younger historians, all of them passionate
lovers of the rich human detail of the past, the actual men and women,
kings, queens, bishops, executioners, and all the shreds and tatters
that remained of them. Together they had opened a royal tomb, and the
Dean's eyes were sparkling as though the ghost of the queen whose ashes
he had been handling still walked and talked with him.

He passed in his light, disinterested way through most sections of
English society, though the slave of none; and he greeted Darrell and
Mrs. Alcot as acquaintances. Mrs. Alcot introduced Cliffe to him, and
the small Dean bowed rather stiffly. He was a supporter of the
government, and he thought Cliffe's campaign against them vulgar and
unfair.

"Is there no hope of Lady Kitty?" he said to Mrs. Alcot.

"Not much. Shall we go down to lunch?"

"Without our hostess?" The Dean opened his eyes.

"Oh, Kitty expects it," said Mrs. Alcot, with affected resignation, "and
the