not of
her complexion she was thinking. She had been careful to choose her time
on previous visits to London so as to risk as little as possible the
chance of meeting her husband. But now there was no doubt that he was in
town, and not the least that if he met her anywhere with Pippo, her
secret, so far as it had ever been a secret, would be in his hands. Even
when John took the boy out it was with a beating heart that his mother
saw him go, for John was too well known to make any secret possible
about his movements, or who it was who was with him. Perhaps it was for
this reason that John desired to take him out, and even cut short his
day's work on one or two occasions to act as cicerone to Philip. He took
him to the House, to the great excitement and delight of the boy, who
only wished that the entertainment could have been made complete by a
speech from Uncle John, which was a point in which his guide, philosopher,
and friend, though in every other way so complaisant, did not humour
Pippo. On one occasion during the first week they had an encounter which
made John's middle-aged pulses move a little quicker. When they were
walking along through Hyde Park, having strolled that way in the fading
of the May afternoon, when the carriages were still promenading up and
down, before they returned to Halkin Street to dinner, where Elinor
awaited them--it happened to Mr. Tatham to meet the roving eyes of
Lady Mariamne, who lay back languidly in her carriage, wrapped in a
fur cloak, and shivering in the chill of the evening. She was not
particularly interested in anything or any person whom she had seen,
and was a little cross and desirous of getting home. But when she saw
John she roused up immediately, and gave a sign to Dolly, who sat by
her, to pull the check-string. "Mr. Tatham!" she cried, in her shrill
voice. Lady Mariamne was not one of the people who object to hear
their voice in public or are reluctant to make their wishes known to
everybody. She felt herself to be of the cast in which everybody is
interested, and that the public liked to know whom she honoured with her
acquaintance. "Mr. Tatham! are you going to carry your rudeness so far
as not to seem to know me? Oh, come here this moment, you impertinent
man!"

"Can I be of any use to you, Lady Mariamne?" said John, gravely, at the
carriage door.

"Oh, dear no; you can't be of any use. What should I have those men for
if I wanted you to be of use? Come and talk