Sir Claude paused with a stare. "Mamma? Why, mamma 's at Brussels!"
Maisie, with her eyes on the lady, wondered. "At Brussels?"
"She 's gone to play a match."
"At billiards? You did n't tell me."
"Of course I did n't!" Sir Claude ejaculated. "There 's plenty I don't tell you. She went on Wednesday."
The couple had added to their distance, but Maisie's eyes more than kept pace with them. "Then she has come back."
Sir Claude watched the lady. "It 's much more likely she never went!"
"It 's mamma!" the child said with decision.
They had stood still, but Sir Claude had made the most of his opportunity and it happened that just at this moment, at the end of the vista, the others halted and, still showing only their backs, seemed to stay talking. "Right you are, my duck!" he exclaimed at last. "It 's my own sweet wife!"
He had spoken with a laugh, but he had changed color, and Maisie quickly looked away from him. "Then who is it with her?"
"Blest if I know!" said Sir Claude.
"Is it Mr. Perriam?"
