es_ the new generation know? It knows how to row, how to shoot,
how to play at cricket, and how to bat. When it has lost its muscle and
lost its money--that is to say, when it has grown old--what a generation
it will be! It doesn't matter: I sha'n't live to see it. Are you
listening, Arnold?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How to cook an olive! Put an olive into a lark, put a lark into a
quail; put a quail into a plover; put a plover into a partridge; put a
partridge into a pheasant; put a pheasant into a turkey. Good. First,
partially roast, then carefully stew--until all is thoroughly done down
to the olive. Good again. Next, open the window. Throw out the turkey,
the pheasant, the partridge, the plover, the quail, and the lark. _Then,
eat the olive._ The dish is expensive, but (we have it on the highest
authority) well worth the sacrifice. The quintessence of the flavor of
six birds, concentrated in one olive. Grand idea! Try another glass of
the white Burgundy, Arnold."

At last the servants left them--with the wine and dessert on the table.

"I have borne it as long as I can, Sir," said Arnold. "Add to all your
kindness to me by telling me at once what happened at Lady Lundie's."

It was a chilly evening. A bright wood fire was burning in the room. Sir
Patrick drew his chair to the fire.

"This is exactly what happened," he said. "I found company at Lady
Lundie's, to begin with. Two perfect strangers to me. Captain Newenden,
and his niece, Mrs. Glenarm. Lady Lundie offered to see me in another
room; the two strangers offered to withdraw. I declined both proposals.
First check to her ladyship! She has reckoned throughout, Arnold, on our
being afraid to face public opinion. I showed her at starting that we
were as ready to face it as she was. 'I always accept what the French
call accomplished facts,' I said. 'You have brought matters to a crisis,
Lady Lundie. So let it be. I have a word to say to my niece (in
your presence, if you like); and I have another word to say to you
afterward--without presuming to disturb your guests.' The guests sat
down again (both naturally devoured by curiosity). Could her ladyship
decently refuse me an interview with my own niece, while two witnesses
were looking on? Impossible. I saw Blanche (Lady Lundie being present,
it is needless to say) in the back drawing-room. I gave her your
letter; I said a good word for you; I saw that she was sorry, though
she wouldn't own it--and that was enough. We