"Well," said Lady Mariamne, with a giggle, "did you ever know anything like those girls? They are not afraid of anything. Now, when I was a girl--don't you remember what an innocent dear I was, Mr. Tatham?--like a lamb; never suspecting that there was any naughtiness in the world----" John endeavoured to put on a smile, in feeble sympathy with the uproariousness of Lady Mariamne's laugh--but her daughter took no such trouble. She sat as grave as a young judge, never moving a muscle. The dog, however, held in her arms, and not at all comfortable, then making prodigious efforts to struggle on to its mistress's more commodious lap, burst out into a responsive bark, as shrill and not much unlike. "Darling Toto," said Lady Mariamne, "come!--it always knows what it's mummy means. Did you ever see such a darling little head, Mr. Tatham?--and the faithful pet always laughs when I laugh. What was I talking of?--St. Serf and his ladies. Well, it is not much wonder, you know, is it? for he has always been a sort of an invalid, and he will never marry now--and poor Hal being gone there's only Phil. Phil's been going a pace, Mr. Tatham; but he has had a bad illness, too, and the other boys going has sobered him a bit; and I do believe, _now_, that he'll probably mend. And there he is, you know, tied to a---- Oh, of course, _she_ is as right as a--as right as a--trivet, whatever that may be. Those sort of heartless people always are: and then there's the child. Is it living, Mr. Tatham?--that's what I want to know." "Philip is alive and well, Lady Mariamne, if that is what you want to know." "Philip!--she called him after Phil, after all! Well, that is something wonderful. I expected to hear he was John, or Jonathan, or something. Now, where is he?" said Lady Mariamne, with the most insinuating air. John burst into a short laugh. "I don't suppose you expect me to tell you," he said. "Why not?--you can't hide a boy that is heir to a peerage, Mr. Tatham!--it is impossible. Nell has done the best she could in that way. They know nothing about her in that awful place she was married from--of course you remember it--a dreadful place, enough to make one commit suicide, don't you know. The Cottage, or whatever they call it, is let, and nobody knows anything about them. I took the trouble to go there, I assure you, on my own hook, to see if I could find out something. Toto nearly died of it, didn't you, darling? Not a drop of cream to be had for him, the poor angel; only a little nasty skim milk. But Mr. Tatham has the barbarity to smile," she went on, with a shrill outcry. "Fancy, Toto--the cruelty to smile!" "No cream for the angel, and no information for his mistress," said John. "You horrid, cruel, cold-blooded man!--and you sit there at your ease, and will do nothing for us----" "Should you like me," said John, "to send out for cream for your dog, Lady Mariamne?"