‘Such a sad, dreadful story,’ commented Lady Adela comfortably, taking no notice of Mrs. Mimburn’s artful, question-courting sighs. ‘And to think of its happening to James, too. Do you know, Min, he always wore black for that woman on the twentieth of July. So stuffy of him, in the hot weather!’ ‘Oh, my dear La-la, trust a man always to _afficher_ himself in the most ridiculous way he can.’ ‘Minna, do you think Kingston is at all like his father?’ ‘My dear La-la, all men are alike. Let us trust that Kingston’s marriage will prevent him from playing the fool like that, though.’ ‘Minnie, do you know Kingston sometimes seems to me so like his father that I am almost frightened. And yet he is quite different, which makes it all the odder. Somehow, his father seems to look over Kingston’s shoulder at me from time to time, and every now and then I hear poor James’s voice distinctly in something Kingston says. And yet they are two quite different people. Isn’t it uncanny? I take quinine for it, Minnie. And I know dear James is safe in heaven, of course, but yet I can never quite help feeling that the father and son are the same in some mysterious way. And that is so uncomfortable, Min. One does like to think that people are really dead when they have been buried. It seems so much more proper, somehow.’ Exhausted by her effort of subtlety, Lady Adela sighed and poured more water into the teapot. Meanwhile Mrs. Mimburn was growing impatient. ‘Well, dear La-la,’ she said, ‘Kingston is just a man. That’s all the likeness there is between him and his father. It is the male element you feel in both. No woman can help feeling it--_voilà ce qui donne les frissons_. And now, La-la, I seem to have been a perfect age, and, really, I ought to be going on. Do you think Kingston and Gundred are likely to be in soon? Because I did want to see her, and it is getting so late that I can hardly spare more than another minute or two.’ Lady Adela looked helplessly at the clock. ‘The play surely must be over by now,’ she answered. ‘Do wait, Minnie. They will be here any time now.’ ‘What has he taken her to this afternoon?’ ‘“La Tosca.” It sounds a very dreadful sort of play, and not at all one to take a nice girl to. But dear Kingston has always been interested in literature and things like that, so I suppose he wants to interest dear Gundred in them, too. There are such pretty books nowadays; I never can see what people want with clever ones. However, I do think Gundred will cure dear Kingston. She has the sweetest, simplest tastes. We agree in everything.... Ah, there they are,’ broke off Lady Adela in tones of triumph, as if the return of the lovers were a personal achievement of her own. Mrs. Mimburn rose, diffusing an eddy of Peau de Marie as she did so.