Lord Skene greeted me kindly but abstractedly. He made no comment on my late absence, except to ask me where I had been gone these three or four days. “To Clapham, sir,” I said, perfectly self-possessed. “It occurred to me to explore the field of Mr Pugsley’s early ministrations. I am thinking of writing his life.” He grinned first; then looked a little startled, glancing across uneasily at his wife. She had suddenly put down her spoon, I observed, leaving her soup unfinished. “What!” said his lordship. “Are you thinking of turning author?” “No, sir,” I answered. “Only of studying truth and godliness at first hand.” “Well,” he said, “you might occupy yourself worse.” He was fairly puzzled, I could see, and, to protect himself, turned the talk in other directions, leaving me to my own cogitations. Miss Christmas, sitting opposite me, seized the opportunity to engage him to herself--no great task, for the old man was genuinely attached to her. “What do you think of my frock, dear?” she said. “I want your opinion, because you are a judge, you know.” But he accepted her banter seriously. He was in an oddly sober mood. “I think,” he said, “that, like charity, it covers a multitude of sins.” “O!” she cried, “how terribly severe! I am only a whited sepulchre after all. In the midst of life we are in death.” “I’ll make a note of that,” I said. “It sounds like one of Mr Pugsley’s original reflections. But of course we are. Don’t you feel it, my lady?” I don’t know what demon was urging me. Lord Skene suddenly exclaimed: “Georgina! is anything the matter?” She was leaning back in her chair, looking white and faint; but she rallied immediately. “Nothing whatever,” she said. “What makes you think so? Go on with your dinner--please do.” He obeyed uneasily. I saw Miss Christmas steal her hand under the cloth, and “poor” her hostess’s with a little lovely look of sympathy. It meant nothing, of course, but sex. What could she know of the other’s real indisposition? But a sudden unaccountable pang of jealousy shot through me witnessing the act.