hat amused by her omniscience during the first interval, but
it was not until the second that she came to the priceless report of our
own two selves.

I was not listening to her when she began, but Anne's sudden grasp of my
arm and the inclination of her head, awoke me to the fact that the gossip
just in front of us must, for some reason or other, be instantly attended
to.

There was a good deal of chatter going on in the auditorium and I missed
an occasional sentence here and there in addition to the opening, but
there could be no doubt as to the application of the reminiscence I heard.

"Got himself into a scrape and had to leave the country," was the first
thing that reached me. "As a matter of fact I had the whole story from
some one who was actually staying in the house at the time." She dropped
her voice as she added something confidentially of which I only caught the
sound of the name Jervaise. Anne was squeezing my arm violently.

"Yes, his father's house," the gossip continued in answer to a question
from her companion. "A young man of great promise. He took silk last year,
and is safe for a place in the Cabinet sooner or later."

"Our Frank," Anne whispered.

I nodded and waited eagerly, although I had not, then, realised my own
connection with the story.

"Oh! yes, that other affair was four years ago--nothing to do with the
dear Jervaises, except for the unfortunate fact that they were
entertaining him at the time. He ran away with a farmer's daughter; eloped
with her in the middle of a dance the Jervaises were giving. Never seen
her before that evening, I believe. The father was one of the Jervaises'
tenants.... A superior kind of young woman in some ways, I've heard; and a
friend of the youngest Jervaise girl ... you wouldn't remember her ... she
went with her friend to Australia or somewhere ... some quixotic idea of
protecting her, I believe ... and married out there. The farmer's name was
Baggs. The whole family were a trifle queer, and emigrated afterwards ...
yes, it was a pity about Melhuish, in a way. He was considered quite a
promising young dramatist. This thing of his was a distinct success. Very
amusing. But naturally, no one would receive him after he'd married this
Baggs girl. Besides which ..."

But at that point the orchestra began, the woman dropped her voice again,
and the only other fragment I heard was, "... after the disgraceful scene
at the dance ... quite impossible...."

I