k with you. Come and lunch somewhere, will you?"

"Yes, if you wish."

"Let's go to the South Kensington Museum."

"The South----! My dear fellow, why not suggest Putney, or the Star and
Garter? Why do you wish to go westward from Hyde Park in search of
luncheon?"

"I have a particular reason. I am to meet someone at the Museum this
afternoon; and I want to ask your advice first. You might as well come;
it's only a matter of a few minutes if we drive."

"Well, as you please. I have not been to the Museum for years."

"All right. Come al----oh, damn! There's Lady Carbury and Constance
coming out of the Park. Dont look at them. Come on."

But Constance, sitting a little more uprightly than her mother, who was
supine upon the carriage cushions, had seen the two gentlemen as they
stood talking.

"Mamma," she said, "there's Marmaduke and Sholto Douglas."

"Where???" said the Countess, lifting her head quickly. "Josephs, drive
slowly. Where are they, Constance?"

"They are going away. I believe Marmaduke saw us. There he is, passing
the hospital."

"We must go and speak to them. Look pleasant, child; and dont make a
fool of yourself."

"Surely youll not speak to him, mamma! You dont expect me----"

"Nonsense. I heard a great deal about him the other day. He has moved
from where he was living, and is quite reformed. His father is very ill.
Do as I tell you. Josephs, stop half way to the hotel."

"I say," said Marmaduke, finding himself out-manoeuvred: "come back.
There they are right ahead, confound them. What are they up to?"

"It cannot be helped," said Douglas. "There is no escape. You must not
cross: it would be pointedly rude."

Marmaduke went on grumbling. When he attempted to pass, the Countess
called his name, and greeted him with smiles.

"We want to know how your father is," she said. "We have had such
alarming accounts of him. I hope he is better."

"They havnt told me much about him," said Marmaduke. "There was deuced
little the matter with the governor when I saw him last."

"Wicked prodigal! What shall we do to reform him, Mr. Douglas? He has
not been to see us for three years past, and during that time we have
had the worst reports of him."

"You never asked me to go and see you."

"Silly fellow! Did you expect me to send you invitations and leave cards
on you, who are one of ourselves? Come to-morrow to dinner. Your uncle
the Bishop will be there; and you will see nearly all the family