"La, if I did," said Lady Allonby, "I have quite forgotten it, and it is
now your manifest duty to do likewise."

"Never in all these years," said Mr. Erwyn, sighing, "have I been able to
forget it."

"I was but a girl, and 'twas natural that at first I should be mistaken in
my fancies," Lady Allonby told him, precisely as she had told Simon Orts:
"and at all events, there is nothing less well-bred than a good memory. I
would decline to remain in the same room with one were it not that Dorothy
has deserted you in this strange fashion. Whither, pray, has she gone?"

Mr. Erwyn smiled. "Her tender heart," said Mr. Erwyn, "is affected by the
pathetic and moving spectacle of the poor hungry swans, pining for their
native land and made a raree-show for visitors in the Pantiles; and she has
gone to stay them with biscuits and to comfort them with cakes."

"Really!" said Lady Allonby.

"And," Mr. Erwyn continued, "to defend her from the possible ferocity
of the gold-fish, Captain Audaine had obligingly afforded service as an
escort."

"Oh," said Lady Allonby; then added, "in the circumstances she might
permissibly have broken the engagement."


"But there is no engagement," said Mr. Erwyn--"as yet."