Mrs. Streightley found the distance from London inconvenient, when each day required her to pronounce a judgment upon some new pattern in furniture or hangings, or to decide for or against some piece of _virtù_ or ornament of a rare and costly description. The season was dull down in Buckinghamshire; and though London was in a certain sense, the fashionable one, dull also, it would at least offer that dear delight to all who lead such lives as hers--a change. So she assented very gladly to a proposition which Robert made to her at the beginning of November, that they should remove to the house in Portland Place for a month. The reason he assigned for this arrangement, on his own part, was the plea of "business," which Katharine never inquired into; and in a few days, with the ease and celerity with which rich people make even the most out-of-the-way arrangements, Katharine found herself settled in her town-house, if not with all the luxury and completeness of "the season," in very perfect comfort. She had not thought it necessary to apprise Mr. Guyon of her intention of coming up to town; nor did she let him know immediately that she had done so. On the second afternoon after her arrival in London she called at his house, but without any expectation of finding him at home. She was, however, shown into the dingy dining-room--more dingy than ever; and there her father joined her after a few minutes. He expressed all the fit and appropriate sentiments on beholding her, with his usual fluency; but he did not express surprise quite successfully. This did not strike Katharine at the time; but as she drove back to Portland Place, having invited her father to dinner on the following day, she thought of it, and felt sure that he had not been surprised,--in fact, that he knew she was in town. "How very odd!" she thought; "has Robert been to see him? And if he has, why should papa not have mentioned it, and said at once he had been expecting to see me?" "I called on papa this afternoon," she said to her husband that day at dinner, at which meal she could not help observing Robert's unusual gloom and thoughtfulness. "He is coming to dine with us to-morrow. Have you seen him yet?" "Yes," said Robert; "he came to the office yesterday." Some feeling like anger, but which she could not precisely define, caused Katharine to turn red and hot for a moment. Her husband said no more, and seemed lost in thought. Had their mistress chanced to look towards them, she would have seen a very expressive glance exchanged between the servants in attendance. The "situation" was not quite a mystery for the servants' hall, and the opinion there for some time had been that "the old 'un was a-comin' of it a deal too strong, and he'd find Streightley wouldn't stand it much longer."