He sighed, and folded the last of the papers under the flap of the bag;
he knew well enough what was meant.

June came out of the dining-room, and helped him on with his summer
coat. From her costume, and the expression of her little resolute face,
he saw at once what was coming.

"I'm going with you," she said.

"Nonsense, my dear; I go straight into the City. I can't have you
racketting about!"

"I must see old Mrs. Smeech."

"Oh, your precious 'lame ducks!" grumbled out old Jolyon. He did not
believe her excuse, but ceased his opposition. There was no doing
anything with that pertinacity of hers.

At Victoria he put her into the carriage which had been ordered for
himself--a characteristic action, for he had no petty selfishnesses.

"Now, don't you go tiring yourself, my darling," he said, and took a cab
on into the city.

June went first to a back-street in Paddington, where Mrs. Smeech,
her 'lame duck,' lived--an aged person, connected with the charring
interest; but after half an hour spent in hearing her habitually
lamentable recital, and dragooning her into temporary comfort, she went
on to Stanhope Gate. The great house was closed and dark.