ely embroidered blotter on the writing-table in
the window, sent me last Christmas by that kind creature, Lady
Goldsmith; so thoughtful, tasteful, and _quite_ touching; Emma, careful
soul, spread it over the blotter, while darling Sweetie-weetie took his
bath. Dear pet, it is a sight to see him splash and splutter. Lady
Goldsmith thinks so much of dear Kenrick. The first time she saw him,
she was _immensely_ struck by his extraordinarily clever _appearance_.
He sat exactly opposite her at a Guildhall banquet; and she told me
afterwards that the mere sight of him was sufficient to take away all
inclination for food; excepting for that intellectual nourishment which
he is so well able to supply. I thought that was rather well
expressed, and, coming from a _florid_ woman, such as Lady Goldsmith,
was quite a tribute to my brother. You _would_ call Lady Goldsmith
'florid,' would you not, dear Christobel? ... Oh, you do not know her
by sight? I am surprised. As the _wife_ of the _Professor_, you will
soon know all these distinguished people by sight. Yes, she is
undoubtedly florid; and inclined to be what my dear father used to call
'a woman of a stout habit.' This being the case, it was certainly a
_tribute_--a tribute of which you and I, dearest child, have a right to
feel justly proud.... Oh, is it still damp? Naughty Sweetie-weet!
Don't you think it might be wise, _just_ to take it to the kitchen.
Emma, good soul, will let you dry it before the fire. I _have_ heard
of fatalities caused by damp newspapers. Precious _child_, we can have
you run no risks! What would _Kenrick_ say? But when it is
_absolutely_ dry, I want you just to explain to me the _gist_ of that
article on the effect of oriental literature on modern thought.
Kenrick tells me you have read it. He wishes to discuss it with me. I
really cannot undertake to read it through. I have not the _time_
required. Yet I must be prepared to talk it over intelligently with my
brother, when next he pays me a visit. He may look in this evening,
weary with his day in town, and requiring the relaxation of a little
intellectual conversation. I must be ready."

* * * * *

An hour later, somewhat tired in body, and completely exhausted in
mind, Miss Charteris walked home. She made a detour, in order to pass
along the lane, and enter through the postern gate at the bottom of the
garden.

She opened it, and passed in.

A shaft