"Yes, here it is. Dear Lady Carbury has recognized me, and is waving her
hand." The Rev. George stood on tiptoe as he spoke, and flourished his
low-crowned soft felt hat.

During the ensuing greetings Carbury stood silent, looking at the horses
with an expression that made the coachman uneasy. At dinner he ate
sedulously, and left the task of entertaining the visitor to his mother
and the girls. The clergyman was at no loss for conversation. He was
delighted with the dinner, delighted with the house, delighted to see
the Countess looking so well, and delighted to hear that the tennis
party that day had been a pleasant one. The Earl listened with
impatience, and was glad when his mother rose. Before she quitted the
dining-room he made a sign to her, and she soon returned, leaving
Marian, Constance, and Elinor in the drawing-room.

"You will not mind my staying, I hope, George," she said, as she resumed
her seat.

"A delightful precedent, and from a distinguished source," said the Rev.
George. "Allow me to pass the bottle. Ha! ha!"

"Thank you, no," said the Countess. "I never take wine." Her tone was
inconclusive, as if she intended to take something else.

"Will you take brandy-and-soda?" said her son, rather brusquely.

Lady Carbury lowered her eyelids in protest. Then she said: "A very
little, if you please, Jasper. I dare not touch wine," she continued to
the clergyman. "I am the slave of my medical man in all matters relating