“Hang upon his lips!” exclaimed Martin, with one of his fiery looks. “Ay! toad-eat him to the top of his bent! I shall not do so! I wish he were underground!”

“Take care what you say!” interposed his cousin sternly.

Martin flushed, looking a little conscious, but said in a sullen tone: “Well, I do wish it, but of course I don’t mean anything! You need not be so quick to take me up!”

“Military anecdotes are never acceptable to me,” said the Dowager, as though the brief interchange between the cousins had not occurred. “I have no intention of encouraging Desborough to enlarge upon his experiences in Spain. The reflections of a General must always be of value — though I fancy we have heard enough of the late war: those of a junior officer can only weary his auditors.”

“You need feel no alarm on that score, ma’am,” said Theodore. “My cousin has not altered so much!”

This was uttered so dryly that the Chaplain felt himself impelled to step into a possible breach. “Ah, Mr. Theodore, you remind us that you are the only one amongst us who can claim to know his lordship! You have frequently been meeting him, while we — ”

“I have met him occasionally,” interrupted Theodore. “His employment abroad has not made frequent meetings possible.”

“Just so — precisely as I was about to remark! But you know him well enough to have a kindness for him!”

“I have always had a great kindness for him, sir.”

The reappearance of Miss Morville, bearing a small firescreen set upon an ebony stick, which she handed to the Dowager, created a timely diversion. The Dowager bestowed a smile upon her, saying that she was very much obliged to her.