V.
A MATTER OF DUTY.
Lady Mickleham is back from her honeymoon. I mean young Lady Mickleham—Dolly Foster (well, of course I do. Fancy the Dowager on a honeymoon!). She signified the fact to me by ordering me to call on her at tea-time; she had, she said, something which she wished to consult me about confidentially. I went.
'I didn't know you were back,' I observed.
'Oh, we've been back a fortnight, but we went down to The Towers. They were all there, Mr. Carter.'
'All who?'
'All Archie's people. The Dowager said we must get really to know one another as soon as possible. I'm not sure I like really knowing people. It means that they say whatever they like to you, and don't get up out of your favourite chair when you come in.'
'I agree,' said I, 'that a soupçon of unfamiliarity is not amiss.'
'Of course it's nice to be one of the family,' she continued.
28
