emphatically.

"Way to get on nowadays," he said, "is to be prominent in some great
movement for benefiting mankind." Joan heard the words, and, turning,
looked at Cornish with a momentary doubt.

"And I mean to get on in the world, my dear Joan," he said, with a
gravity which quite altered his keen, fair face. It passed off
instantly, as if swept away by the ready smile which came again. A
close observer might have begun to wonder under which mask lay the real
Tony Cornish.

Major White looked stolidly at his friend. His face, on the contrary
never changed.

Lady Ferriby joined them at this moment--a silent, querulous-looking
woman in black silk and priceless lace, who, despite her white hair and
wrinkled face, yet wore her clothes with that carefulness which
commands respect from high and low alike. The world was afraid of Lady
Ferriby, and had little to say to her. It turned aside, as a rule, when
she approached. And when she had passed on with her suspicious glance,
her bent and shaking head, it whispered that there walked a woman with
a romantic past. It is, moreover, to be hoped that the younger portion
of Lady Ferriby's world took heed of this catlike, lonely woman, and
recognized the melancholy fact that it is unwise to form a romantic
attachment in the days of one's youth.

"Tony," said her ladyship, "they have eaten all the sandwiches."

And there was something in her voice, in her manner of touching Tony