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But he showed a fine discipline, and called it "My lady" with presence of mind. Ghost or no, that was safe! "What is that dog, Oliver?" said the vision. The question made all clear. The answer was speculative. "Happen it might be his lordship's dog that came yesterday feeling strange in a strange place belike?" "No dog came yesterday. Lord Cumberworld hasn't a dog. I must know. Where is it?"
It's too hot for old Lady Cumberworld to go out. I heard her say so." "She'll be no consolation for him," said Irene. "No that she won't! But unless there's someone else there she'll have Inez you've seen the Spanish dame-de-compagnie? and she'll enjoy a flirtation with your brother. He'll speak Spanish to her, and she'll sing Spanish songs. He won't hurt for a few hours."
That settled, she recalled a something he had left unfinished earlier. "You were asking about Lord Cumberworld, Mr. Pellew?" "Whether there was anything afoot in that quarter? Yes, he asked that, and wanted to know if Mrs. Bailey, who had been retailing current gossip, was rightly informed when she said that there was, and that it was going to come off.
"What made me think so was his being so curious about our friend Cumberworld. As for Gwen, I wouldn't trust her not to be romantic. Girls are." The lady speaks discreetly: "Certainly no such construction would have occurred to me. One has to be on one's guard against romantic ideas. She might easily be a éprise, to some extent as girls are...." "But spooney, no! Well perhaps you're right."
Something in this caused Mr. Torrens to say, with ridiculous inconsecutiveness: "Then you're not engaged to Lord Cumberworld?" "I certainly am not engaged to Lord Cumberworld," said Gwen with cold emphasis. "Why did you think I was?" "Mrs. Bailey." "Mrs. Bailey! And why did you think I wasn't?" "That requires thought.
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