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Henry Greech had made an end of biting small sandwiches, and settled down like a dust-storm refreshed, to discuss one of the fashionably prevalent topics of the moment, the prevention of destitution.
A maid, who had evidently been on the lookout for her, brought her the salver. The servants were well aware of the dreadful thing that was happening, and there was pity on the girl's face and in her voice. "This came for you ten minutes ago, ma'am, and Mr. Greech has been here, ma'am, with another gentleman, and was sorry you weren't at home. Mr.
In her younger days Francesca had been known as the beautiful Miss Greech; at forty, although much of the original beauty remained, she was just dear Francesca Bassington. No one would have dreamed of calling her sweet, but a good many people who scarcely knew her were punctilious about putting in the "dear."
Greech would possibly have failed in an examination of that nature, but she knew what to do with carrots that have been over-long in storage. Francesca did not renew her speech-making; a chill seemed to have fallen over all efforts at festivity, and she contented herself with refilling her glass and simply drinking to her boy's good health.
Henry Greech was a fluent thinker, of the kind that prefer to do their thinking aloud; the silence that descended on him as a mantle in the House of Commons was an official livery of which he divested himself as thoroughly as possible in private life. He did not propose to sit through dinner as a mere listener to Mr.
Lady Caroline found herself at close quarters with the estimable Henry Greech, and experienced some of the joy which comes to the homeward wending sportsman when a chance shot presents itself on which he may expend his remaining cartridges. "So the Government is going to climb down, after all," she said, with a provocative assumption of private information on the subject.
Given a sounding-board and a harmonium, and a titled woman of some sort in the chair, and he'll be perfectly happy; I must say I hadn't realised how overpowering he might be at a small dinner-party." "I should say he was a very good man," said Mrs. Greech; she had forgiven the mutilation of her soup-plate story. The party broke up early as most of the guests had other engagements to keep.
Greech said he would call again in about half-an-hour." Francesca carried the cablegram unopened into the drawing-room and sat down for a moment to think. There was no need to read it yet, for she knew what she would find written there. For a few pitiful moments Comus would seem less hopelessly lost to her if she put off the reading of that last terrible message.
Greech, but she studied them as carefully and conscientiously as a stay-at-home plain- dwelling English child commits to memory the measurements and altitudes of the world's principal mountain peaks. Some women of her temperament and mentality know by heart the favourite colours, flowers and hymn-tunes of all the members of the Royal Family; Mrs.
"We must not grudge them their show of presents after their twenty- five years of married life," said Lady Caroline, gently; "it is the silver lining to their cloud." A third of the guests present were related to the Trudhams. "Lady Caroline is beginning well," murmured Courtenay Youghal. "I should hardly call twenty-five years of married life a cloud," said Henry Greech, lamely.
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