.--I beg your pardon," he added
quickly and courteously, "it strikes me I am becoming slightly
impertinent. But that woman's voice has turned my brain and loosed the
string of my tongue so that I speak words of unwisdom. You enjoyed her
singing too, though, didn't you? I thought so, catching sight of you
while it was going on, attended by the faithful Ludovic and little Lady
Constance. It's quite touching to see how she worships you. And wasn't
Miss St. Quentin with you too? Yes, I thought so. I can't quite make up
my mind about Honoria St. Quentin. Sometimes she strikes me as one of
the loveliest women here--and she can walk, if you like, it's a joy to
see her. And then again, she seems to me altogether too long, and
off-hand somehow, and boyish! And then, too,"--Richard moved his head
against the white pillows, and stared up at the window, where the blind
sucked, with small creaking noises, against the top edge of the open
sash,--"she fights shy of me, and personal feeling militates against
admiration, you know. I am sorry, for I rather want to talk to her
about--oh, well, a whole lot of things. But she avoids me. I never get
the opportunity."

"My darling, don't you think that is partly imagination?"

"Perhaps it is," he answered. "I dare say I do indulge in unnecessary
fancies about people's manner and so on. I can't very well be off it,
you know. And every one is really very kind to me. Morabita was
perfectly charming when I thanked her in very floundering Italian. It's
a pity she's so fat. But, never mind, the fat vanishes, to all intents
and purposes, when she begins to sing. And old Barking is as kind as he
can be. I feel awfully obliged to him, though his ministrations
to-night amounted to being slightly embarrassing. He brought me cabinet
ministers and under-secretaries, and gorgeous Germans and Turks, in
batches--and even a real live Chinaman with a pig-tail. Mother, do you
remember the cabinets at home in the Long Gallery? I used to dream
about them. And that Chinaman gave me the queerest feeling to-night. It
was idiotic, but--did I ever tell you--when I was a little chap, I was
always dreaming about war or something, from which I couldn't get away.
Others could, but for me--from circumstances, don't you know--there was
no possibility of scuttling. And the little Chinese figures on the
black, lacquer cabinets were mixed up with it. As I say, it gripped me
to-night in the midst of all those people and---- Oh