Mrs. Raymore relapsed into the silence that was almost habitual to her, but it passed through her mind that the conversation had soon turned from Sibylla to Grantley himself, or at least had dealt with Sibylla purely in her bearing on Grantley; it had not increased her knowledge of Mrs. Imason as an independent individual. "Well, with business what it is," said Fanshaw in his loud voice--a voice that had a way of stopping other people's voices--"we must cut it down somewhere." "Oh, you're as rich as Crœsus, Fanshaw!" objected young Blake. "I'm losing money every day! Christine and I were discussing it as we drove here." "I like your idea of discussion, John," remarked Christine in her delicate tones, generally touched with sarcasm. "I couldn't open my lips." "He closured you, and then threw out your Budget?" asked Grantley. "He almost stripped my gown from my back, and made an absolute clutch at my diamonds." "I put forward the reasonable view," Fanshaw insisted rather heatedly. "What I said was, begin with superfluities----" "Are clothes superfluities?" interjected Christine, watching the gradual flushing of her husband's face with mischievous pleasure. "Nothing is superfluous that is beautiful," said Selford; he lisped slightly, and spoke with an affected air. "We should retrench in the grosser pleasures--eating and drinking, display, large houses----" "Peculiar dogs!" suggested Blake, chaffing Mrs. Selford. "Oh, but they are beautiful!" she cried. "Horses!" said Christine, with sharp-pointed emphasis. "You should really be guided by Mr. Selford, John." "Every husband should be guided by another husband. That's axiomatic," said Grantley. "I'm quite content with my own," smiled Mrs. Selford. "Dick and I always agree." "They must be fresh from a row," Tom Courtland whispered surlily to Mrs. Raymore. "About money matters the man's voice must in the nature of things be final," Fanshaw insisted. "It's obvious. He knows about it; he makes it----" "Quite enough for him to do," Christine interrupted. "At that point we step in--and spend it." "Division of labour? Quite right, Mrs. Fanshaw," laughed Blake. "And if any of you can't manage your department, I'm ready to help." "They can manage that department right enough," Fanshaw grumbled. "If we could manage them as well as they manage that----" He took a great gulp of champagne, and grew still redder when he heard Christine's scornful little chuckle. Raymore turned to Sibylla with a kind fatherly smile. "I hope we're not frightening you, Mrs. Imason? Not too much of the seamy side?" Blake chimed in on her other hand: "I'm here to maintain Mrs. Imason's illusions." "If we're talking of departments, I think that's mine, Blake, thank you," called Grantley with a laugh. "I'm sure I've been most considerate." This was Lady Harriet's first contribution to the talk. "I haven't said a word!" "And you could a tale unfold?" asked Blake.