roachfully, to the Dean.

The Dean said another "Brava!" and gave another clap. Then, becoming
aware of Lord Grosville's open mouth and eye, he sat up, caught his
wife's expression, and came back to prose and the present.

"My dear young lady," he began, "you have the most extraordinary
talent--" when Lady Grosville advanced upon him. Standing before him,
she majestically signalled to her husband across his small person.

"William, kindly order Mrs. Wilson's carriage."

Lord Grosville awoke from his stupor with a jerk, and did as he was
told. Mrs. Wilson, the agent's timid wife, who was not at all aware that
she had asked for her carriage, rose obediently. Then the mistress of
the house turned to Lady Kitty.

"You recite very well, Kitty," she said, with cold and stately emphasis,
"but another time I will ask you to confine yourself to Racine and
Corneille. In England we have to be very careful about French writers.
There are, however, if I remember right, some fine passages in
'Athalie.'"

Kitty said nothing. The Austrian attache who had been following the
little incident with the liveliest interest, retired to a close
inspection of the china. But the Dean, whose temper was of the quick and
chivalrous kind, was roused.

"She recites wonderfully! And Victor Hugo is a classic, please, my
lady--just as much as the rest of them. Ah, well, no doubt, no doubt,
there might be things more suitable." And the old man came wavering down
to earth, as the enthusiasm which Kitty had breathed into him escaped,
like the gas from a balloon. "But, do you know, Lady Kitty "--he struck
into a new subject with eagerness, partly to cover the girl, partly to
silence Lady Grosville--"you reminded me all the time so remarkably--in
your voice--certain inflections--of your sister--your step-sister, isn't
it?--Lady Alice? You know, of course, she is close to you to-day--just
the other side the park--with the Sowerbys?"

The Dean's wife sprang to her feet in despair. In general it was to her
a matter for fond complacency that her husband had no memory for gossip,
and was in such matters as innocent and as dangerous as a child. But
this was too much. At the same moment Ashe came quickly forward.

"My sister?" said Kitty. "My sister?"

She spoke low and uncertainly, her eyes fixed upon the Dean.

He looked at her with a sudden odd sense of something unusual, then went
on, still floundering:

"We met her at St. Pancras on our way down.