One of these occasions was the morning of Wark's warning, which, however, Vida determined to say nothing about till she was obliged. She had just handed up her cup for replenishing when the door opened, and, to the surprise of the ladies, the master of the house appeared on the threshold. 'Is--is anything the matter?' faltered his wife, half rising. 'Matter? Must something be the matter that I venture into my own breakfast-room of a morning?' 'No, no. Only I thought, as Doris didn't come, you were breakfasting upstairs, too.' No notice being taken of this, she at once set about heating water, for no one expected Mr. Fox-Moore to drink tea made in the kitchen. 'I thought,' said he, twitching an open newspaper off the table and folding it up--'I thought I asked to be allowed the privilege of opening my paper for myself.' 'Your _Times_ hasn't been touched,' said his wife, anxiously occupied with the spirit-lamp. He stopped in the act of thrusting the paper in his pocket and shook it. 'What do you call this?' 'That is my _Times_,' she said. '_Your_ _Times_?' 'I ordered an extra copy, because you dislike so to have yours looked at till you've finished with it.' 'Dreadful hardship _that_ is!' he said, glancing round, and seeing his own particular paper neatly folded and lying still on the side table. 'It was no great hardship when you read it before night. When you don't, it's rather long to wait.' 'To wait for what?' 'For the news of the day.' 'Don't you get the news of the day in the _Morning Post_?' 'I don't get such full Parliamentary reports nor the foreign correspondence.' 'Good Lord! what next?' 'I think you must blame me,' said Vida, speaking for the first time. 'I'm afraid you'll find it's only since I've been here that Janet has broken loose and taken in an extra copy.' 'Oh, it's on your account, is it?' he grumbled, but the edge had gone out of his ill-humour. 'I suppose you _have_ to keep up with politics or you couldn't keep the ball rolling as you did last night?' 'Yes,' said Vida, with an innocent air. 'It is well known what superhuman efforts we have to make before we can qualify ourselves to talk to men.' 'Hm!' grumbled Fox-Moore. 'I never saw _you_ at a loss.' 'You did last night.' 'No, I didn't. I saw you getting on like a house afire with Haycroft and the beguiling Borrodaile. It's a pity all the decent men are married.'