"How's the mother?"

"You see, she has gone abroad, too--to Bad Wildheim. In fact, Lord
Ancoats has taken her."

"That's the place for heart, isn't it?" said his mother, abruptly.
"There's a man there that cures everybody."

"I believe so," said George. "May we come to business, mother? I have
brought these papers for you to sign, and I must get to the House in
good time."

Lady Tressady seemed to take no notice. She got up again, restlessly, and
walked to the window.

"How do you like my dress, George? Now, don't imagine anything absurd!
Justine made it, and it was quite cheap."

George could not help smiling--all the more that he was conscious of
relief. She would not be asking him to admire her dress if there were
fresh debts to confess to him.

"It makes you look wonderfully young," he said, turning a critical eye,
first upon the elegant gown of some soft pinky stuff in which his mother
had arrayed herself, then upon the subtly rouged and powdered face above
it. "You are a marvellous person, mother! All the same, I think the heat
must have been getting hold of you, for your eyes are tired. Don't racket
too much!"