THE SACRED FOUNT
you to so many red herrings. You each have your turn; only his seems repeated, poor dear, till he's quite worn out with it."
I kept for a little this image in my eye. "I can see of course that his whole situation must be something of a strain for him; for I've not forgotten what you told me yesterday of his service with Lady John. To have to work in such a way for two of them at once"—it couldn't help, I admitted, being a tax on a fellow. Besides, when one came to think of it, the same man couldn't be two red herrings. To show as Mrs. Server's would directly impair his power to show as Lady John's. It would seem, in short, a matter for his patronesses to have out together.
Mrs. Brissenden betrayed, on this, some annoyance at my levity. "Oh, the cases are not the same, for with Lady John it amuses him: he thinks he knows."
"Knows what?"
"What she wants him for. He doesn't know"—she kept it wonderfully clear—"that she really doesn't want him for anything; for anything except, of course "—this came as a droll second thought—"himself."
"And he doesn't know, either"—I tried to remain at her level—"that Mrs. Server does."
"No," she assented, "he doesn't know what it's her idea to do with him."
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