ridge got up. For one second she clung to her son, and
then, disengaging herself, froze up like the sudden congealment of a
spring.

"Yes, Robert," she said. "I was having a little talk to Michael."

"May I come in?"

"It's our secret," she whispered to Michael.

"Yes, come in, father," he said.

Lord Ashbridge stood towering in the doorway.

"Come, my dear," he said, not unkindly, "it's time for you to go to
bed."

She had become the mask of herself again.

"Yes, Robert," she said. "I suppose it must be late. I will come. Oh,
there's Petsy. Will you ring, Michael? then Fedden will come and take
him to bed. He sleeps with Fedden."

CHAPTER IX

Michael, in desperate conversational efforts next morning at breakfast,
mentioned the fact that the German Emperor had engaged him in a
substantial talk at Munich, and had recommended him to pass the winter
at Berlin. It was immediately obvious that he rose in his father's
estimation, for, though no doubt primarily the fact that Michael was
his son was the cause of this interest, it gave Michael a sort of
testimonial also to his respectability. If the Emperor had thought
that his taking up a musical career was indelibly disgraceful--as Lord
Ashbridge himself had done--he would certainly not have made himself
so agreeable. On anyone of Lord Ashbridge's essential and deep-rooted
snobbishness this could not fail to make a certain effect; his chilly
politeness to Michael sensibly thawed; you might almost have detected
a certain cordiality in his desire to learn as much as possible of this
gratifying occurrence.

"And you mean to go to Berlin?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I shan't be able to," said Michael; "my master is in
London."

"I should be inclined to reconsider that, Michael," said the father.
"The Emperor knows what he is talking about on the subject of music."

Lady Ashbridge looked up from the breakfast she was giving Petsy II.
His dietary was rather less rich than that of the defunct, and she was
afraid sometimes that his food was not nourishing enough.

"I remember the concert we had here," she said. "We had the 'Song to
Aegir' twice."

Lord Ashbridge gave her a quick glance. Michael felt he would not have
noticed it the evening before.

"Your memory is very good, my dear," he said with encouragement.

"And then we had a torchlight procession," she remarked.

"Quite so. You remember it perfectly. And about his visit here, Michael.
Did he talk about