p as late as any one, than from any hankering after that cigar
which a Sixth Form fellow, so conscientious as Jock was, might not
trifle with. "Oh, here are those two duffers; those saps, don't you
know," Montjoie said, with a grimace, as he perceived them on entering
the room; in which remark he was perhaps justified by the epithets which
these two superior persons applied to him. The two parties did not
amalgamate in the smoking-room any more than in other places. The new
comers surrounded Sir Tom in a noisy little crowd, demanding of him an
explanation of the Contessa's meaning. This, however, was subdued
presently by a somewhat startling little incident. The gentlemen were
discussing the Contessa with the greatest freedom. "It's rather
astounding to meet her in a good house, just like any one else," one man
forgot himself sufficiently to say, but he came to his recollection very
quickly on meeting Sir Tom's eyes. "I beg your pardon, Randolph, of
course that's not what I mean. I mean after all those years." "Then I
hope you will remember to say exactly what you mean," said Sir Tom, "on
other occasions. It will simplify matters."

This momentary incident, though it was quiet enough, and expressed in
tones rather less than more loud than the ordinary conversation, made a
sensation in the room, and produced first an involuntary stillness, and
then an eager access of talk. It had the effect, however, of making
everybody aware that the Contessa intended to make, on Thursday, some
revelation or other, an intimation which moved Jock and his tutor as
much or even more than it moved the others. Mr. Derwentwater even made
advances to Montjoie, whom he had steadily ignored, in order to
ascertain what it was. "Something's coming off, that's all we can tell,"
that young patrician said. "She is going to retire, so she says, from
the world, don't you know? That's like a tradesman shutting up shop when
he's made his fortune, or a _prima donna_ going off the stage. It ain't
so easy to make out, is it, how the Forno-Populo can retire from the
world? She can't be going to take poison, like the great Sarah, and give
us a grand dying seance in Lady Randolph's drawing-room. That would be
going a bit too far, don't you know?"

"It is going a bit too far to imagine such a thing," Derwentwater said.

"Oh, come, you know, it isn't school-time," cried Montjoie, with a
laugh. And though Mr. Derwentwater was as much superior to the little
lord