would not have thought of living together unless each had been able to supply what the other wanted. Adela found money for the house, and Mrs. Topham lent the shelter of her name to her niece's unprotected condition. There were separate sitting-rooms for the two ladies, and, if rumour were true (which, after all, it usually is not), a separate staircase for the clergy.
Adela was in her drawing-room one afternoon when Lord Semingham was announced. He appeared to be very warm, and he carried a bundle of papers in his hand. Among the papers there was one of those little smooth white volumes which epitomise so much of the joy and sorrow of this transitory life. He gave himself a shake, as he sat down, and held up the book.
"The car has begun to move," he observed.
"Juggernaut's?"
"Yes; and I have been to see my bankers. I take a trip to the seaside instead of a moor this year, and have let my own pheasant shooting."
He paused and added,
"Dennison has not taken my shooting. They go to the seaside too – with the children."
He paused again and concluded,
"The Omofaga prospectus will be out to-morrow."
Adela laughed.
"Bessie is really quite annoyed," remarked Lord Semingham. "I have seldom seen her so perturbed – but I've sent Ruston to talk to her."
"And why did you do it?" asked Adela.
"I should like to tell you a little history," said he.
And he told her how Mrs. Dennison had sent a telegram to Frankfort. This history was long, for Lord Semingham told it dramatically, as though he enjoyed its quality. Yet Adela made no comment beyond asking,
"And wasn't she right?"
"Oh, for the Empire perhaps – for us, it means trips to the seaside."
He drew his chair a little nearer hers, and dropped his affectation of comic plaintiveness.
"A most disgusting thing has happened in Curzon Street," he said. "Have you heard?"
"No; I've seen nothing of Maggie lately. You've all been buried in Omofaga."
"Hush! No words of ill-omen, please! Well, it's annoyed me immensely I can't think what the foolish fellow means. Tom Loring's going."
"Tom – Loring – going?" she exclaimed with a punctuated pause between every word. "What in the world for?"
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