of manner pervaded his two guests, somewhat such
as the Confessional might produce in a penitent with a sense of humour,
who had committed a funny crime. It was, you see, difficult to assign a
plausible reason why Mr. Pellew and Miss Dickenson should have already
signed a treaty on the subject.

Perhaps it was not altogether disinterested in the gentleman to look at
his watch, and accept its warning that nothing short of hysterical haste
would catch his train for him. However, the grey mare said, through her
official representative in the gig behind her, that we should do it if
the train was a minute or so behind. So possibly he was quite sincere.

CHAPTER XXV

CONCERNING CAVENDISH SQUARE, AND ITS WHEREABOUTS IN THE EARLY
FIFTIES. MRS. FITZHERBERT AND PRINCESS CAROLINE. TWO LONG-FORGOTTEN
CARD-PACKS. DUMMY, AND HOW MR. PELLEW TOOK HIS HAND. GWEN'S
PERVERTED WHIST-SENSE. THE DUST OF AGES, AT ITS FINEST. HOW IT
TURNED THE TALK, AND MOULDED EVENT. HOW GWEN'S PEN SCRATCHED ON
INTO THE NIGHT

Aesthetic Topography is an interesting study. Seen by its light, at the
date of this story, Oxford Street was certainly at one and the same time
the South of the North of London, and the North of the South. For
whereas Hanover Square, which is only a stone's throw to the south of
it, is, so to speak, saturated with Piccadilly--and when you are there
you may just as well be in Westminster at once--it is undeniable that
Cavendish Square is in the zone of influence of Regent's Park, and that
Harley and Wimpole Streets, which run side by side north from it, never
pause to breathe until they all but touch its palings. Once in Regent's
Park, how can Topography--the geometric fallacy apart--ignore St. John's
Wood? And once St. John's Wood is admitted, how is it possible to turn a
cold shoulder to Primrose Hill? Cross Primrose Hill, and you may just as
well be out in the country at once.

But there!--our impressions may be but memories of fifty years ago, and
our reader may wonder why Cavendish Square suggests them.

He himself, probably very much our junior--a bad habit other people
acquire as Time goes on--may consider Harley Street and Wimpole Street
just as much town as Hanover Square, and St. John's Wood--even Primrose
Hill!--as on all fours with both. We forgive him. One, or possibly we
ought to say several, should learn to be tolerant of the new-fangled
opinions of hot-headed youth. We were lik