"They want more of it," said Harris; "our old one hasn't got enough of
it. I'll have to put it in the nursery, and get a new one for the
drawing-room."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"No," said Harris; "she didn't seem able to think of anything else."

"You'll find when you get home," I said, "she has thought of one other
thing."

"What's that?" said Harris.

"A house at Folkestone for the season."

"What should she want a house at Folkestone for?" said Harris.

"To live in," I suggested, "during the summer months."

"She's going to her people in Wales," said Harris, "for the holidays,
with the children; we've had an invitation."

"Possibly," I said, "she'll go to Wales before she goes to Folkestone, or
maybe she'll take Wales on her way home; but she'll want a house at
Folkestone for the season, notwithstanding. I may be mistaken--I hope
for your sake that I am--but I feel a presentiment that I'm not."

"This trip," said Harris, "is going to be expensive."

"It was an idiotic suggestion," I said, "from the beginning."