Sir Joseph, having risen from his post-prandial snooze and found Mrs. Delarayne, had led that lady to the drawing-room, and was now engaged in trying to convince her of the general wisdom of all that she had been hearing from her sister. "I tell you, my dear Edith," he said, "that I have considerable difficulty in believing that your Lord Henry is the great man you say he is." "Of course you have," she cried. "It is always difficult to believe that a really great man could ever deign to cross our threshold, much less shake hands with us! We feel we are too mediocre for that!" "I don't mean that!" he said, shaking his head helplessly, although he had not understood her real meaning. "Joseph,"--Mrs. Delarayne began seriously,--"shall I tell you what it is? You are jealous." He laughed uproariously. "Oh, Edith, it takes you to say a thing like that! Absurd! Absurd!" Then he added seriously. "But really, I have heard things about Lord Henry that have compelled me to lose my respect for him." "Who told you?" "Denis, for one." "Denis is jealous too!" cried the widow. "Now, my dear, do be reasonable! Are we all jealous of Lord Henry then?" "I should think it most highly probable--yes." "Well, anyway," Sir Joseph continued, frowning darkly, "Denis assured me on his oath,--on his oath, understand, that Lord Henry, this son of a noble marquis, this wonderful nerve specialist, this reformer of the world, this----" "Yes, all right, Joseph. You don't shine at that sort of oratory. What has Lord Henry done?" "He has not only constantly engaged Leonetta in unsuitable conversation, but to-day, he actually kissed her!" Mrs. Delarayne laughed. "I told you Denis was jealous," she exclaimed. "Knights errant always are. I've always suspected that St. George was jealous of the dragon." Nevertheless, while Sir Joseph's slow brain was working this out, she snatched a moment to ponder how her noble young friend could possibly have found it necessary to go to such unexpected extremes. "Don't be unfair, Edith," Sir Joseph objected. "Denis was quite right to tell us. Lord Henry is much too old to kiss a child like Leonetta." "You mean he is just old enough." The baronet waved his hands in a mystified manner before him. "I cannot understand you," he replied. It was at this point that Denis burst in upon them. "I beg your pardon," he said, "you wanted to discuss something with me, I believe," he added, addressing Sir Joseph. "Yes, we did,--that is to say, Mrs. Delarayne," stammered the baronet. He was always a little uncomfortable when he felt constrained to be amiable to one of his staff. "We both wished to speak to you, Denis," said Mrs. Delarayne. "Sit down, will you." Denis sat down and folded his arms,--a position Mrs. Delarayne had never seen him assume before. "It is about Leonetta," she added.