and himself had occupied separate continents (_on avait
fait continent a part_, as the French might say) during that period, a
Major-General fresh from India, an old flame and constant correspondent,
had suddenly swooped down upon the boarding-house in Queen's Gate and,
in swashbuckling fashion, had abducted the admirable and unresisting
lady. It was a matter of special license, and off went the tardily happy
pair to Margate, before we had finished rubbing our eyes.

It was grossly selfish on the part of Mrs. Considine, said Barbara. She
thought her--no; perhaps she didn't think her--God alone knows the
convolutions of feminine mental processes--but she proclaimed her
anyhow--an unscrupulous woman.

"There's Liosha," she said, "left alone in that boarding-house."

"My dear," said I, "Mrs. Jupp--I admit it's deplorable taste to change a
name of such gentility as Considine for that of Jupp, but it isn't
unscrupulous--Mrs. Jupp did not happen to be charged with a mission
from on High to dry nurse Liosha for the rest of her life."

"That's where you're wrong," Barbara retorted. "She was. She was the one
person in the world who could look after Liosha. See what she's done for
her. It was her duty to stick to Liosha. As for those two old faggots
marrying, they ought to be ashamed of themselves."

Whether they were ashamed of themselves or not didn't matter. Liosha
remained alone in the boarding-house. Not all Barbara's indignation
could turn Mrs. Jupp into the admirable Mrs. Considine and bring her
back to Queen's Gate. What was to be done? We consulted Jaffery, who as
Liosha's trustee ought to have consulted us. Jaffery pulled a long face
and smiled ruefully. For the first time he realised--in spite of tragic
happenings--the comedy aspect of his position as the legal guardian of
two young, well-to-do and attractive widows. He was the last man in the
world to whom one would have expected such a fate to befall. He too
swore lustily at the defaulting duenna.

"I thought it was all fixed up nicely forever," he growled.

"Everything is transitory in this life, my dear fellow," said I.
"Everything except a trusteeship. That goes on forever."

"That's the devil of it," he growled.

"You must get used to it," said I. "You'll have lots more to look after
before you've done with this existence!"

His look hardened and seemed to say: "If you go and die and saddle me
with Barbara, I'll punch your head."

He turned his back o