But there was one active quality that Lord Rockminster certainly did
possess: he was a most devoted brother, as all the town knew. He was
never tired of going about with his three beautiful sisters, or with any
one of them; he would fetch and carry for them with the most amiable
assiduity; "Rock" they called him, as if he were a retriever. Then the
fact that they followed very different pursuits made all the greater
demand on his consideration. His youngest sister, Lady Rosamund Bourne,
painted indefatigably in both water and oils, and had more than once
exhibited in Suffolk Street; Lady Sybil devoted herself to music, and
was a well-known figure at charitable concerts; while the eldest sister,
Lady Adela, considered literature and the drama as more particularly
under her protection, nor had she ceased to interest herself in these
graceful arts when she married Sir Hugh Cunyngham, of the Braes, that
famous breeder of polled cattle. The natural consequence of all this was
that Lord Rockminster found himself called to a never-ending series of
concerts, theatres, private views, and the like, and always with one or
other of his beautiful, tall sisters as his companion; while on a
certain occasion (for it was whispered that Lady Adela Cunyngham was
engaged in the composition of a novel, and her brother was the soul of
good-nature) he had even gone the length of asking a publisher to dine
at his club. And here he was seated in an actress's room, alone, while
his sister was inspecting powder-puffs, washes, patches, and paste
jewelry; and not only that, but they were about to take an actor home to
supper with them. What he thought about it all he never said. He sat and
stroked his small yellow moustache; his eyes was absent; and on his
handsome, almost Greek, features there dwelt a perfect and continuous
calm.

Presently the door was opened, and the smart-looking young baritone who