discovery that I was the nephew of a "titled person"
evidently interested her. I could feel rather than see that she glanced
significantly aside at Sir Ivor, and that Sir Ivor in return made a
little movement of his shoulders equivalent to "I told you so."

Now Hilda knew perfectly well that the aunt of whom I spoke WAS
Lady Tepping; so I felt sure that she had played this card of malice
prepense, to pique Lady Meadowcroft.

But Lady Meadowcroft herself seized the occasion with inartistic
avidity. She had hardly addressed us as yet. At the sound of the magic
passport, she pricked up her ears, and turned to me suddenly. "Burma?"
she said, as if to conceal the true reason for her change of front.
"Burma? I had a cousin there once. He was in the Gloucestershire
Regiment."

"Indeed?" I answered. My tone was one of utter unconcern in her cousin's
history. "Miss Wade, will you take Bombay ducks with your curry?"
In public, I thought it wise under the circumstances to abstain from
calling her Hilda. It might lead to misconceptions; people might suppose
we were more than fellow-travellers.

"You have had relations in Burma?" Lady Meadowcroft persisted.

I manifested a desire to discontinue the conversation. "Yes," I
answered, coldly, "my uncle commanded there."

"Commanded there! Really! Ivor, do you hear? Dr. Cumberledge's uncle
commanded in Burma." A faint intonation on the word commanded drew
unobtrusive attention to its social importance. "May I ask what was his
name?--my cousin was there, you see." An insipid smile. "We may have
friends in common."

"He was a certain Sir Malcolm Tepping," I blurted out, staring hard at
my plate.

"Tepping! I think I have heard Dick speak of him, Ivor."

"Your cousin," Sir Ivor answered, with emphatic dignity, "is certain to
have mixed with nobbut the highest officials in Burma."

"Yes, I'm sure Dick used to speak of a certain Sir Malcolm. My cousin's
name, Dr. Cumberledge, was Maltby--Captain Richard Maltby."

"Indeed," I answered, with an icy stare. "I cannot pretend to the
pleasure of having met him."

Be exclusive to the exclusive, and they burn to know you. From that
moment forth Lady Meadowcroft pestered us with her endeavours to scrape
acquaintance. Instead of trying how far she could place her chair from
us, she set it down as near us as politeness permitted. She entered into
conversation whenever an opening afforded itself, and we two stood off
haughtily. She even ve