"Of course—of course," said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins, to whom it was the newest of news.
"Well, quite by accident we found out that Mary Bride is a red Deeping, an undoubted descendant of that romantic old scoundrel Red Roger. The Duchess of Osterley herself made the discovery."
"Did she indeed?" said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins, deeply impressed.
"She did; and you see it makes a lot of difference. It explains Pollyooly; and it makes it imperative on her friends to see that she does not spend all her days as a Temple laundress."
"There's certainly something in that," said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins with genuine conviction.
"Well, we're going to cultivate her talent for dancing, since, as things go nowadays, it is a career most likely to afford her an opportunity of marrying into the sphere to which, by blood, she belongs."
"I see the idea. Of course the aristocracy is marrying the dramatic profession at a great rate," said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins thoughtfully.
"Well, we have formed a fund for the training of Mary Bride in this art; and we want some one to manage the fund for us and collect it. I suggested
