"What nonsense you talk, Gerald," put in that young lady; "there, you see, I take the wind out of your sails at once--I am sure Mrs. Arkel doesn't mind. Do you?" she turned to Miriam with the sweetest of smiles. "I--indeed no. Surely you are old enough friends for that. Well, we're relations too, now, in a sort of way, aren't we, Hilda?" "I suppose we are--cousins by marriage." "I'm a cousin by marriage too," announced Dicky; with his mouth full of cake; "we're all cousins." "In that case, Dicky, let me give you cousinly advice--not to speak with your mouth full!" "No, Miss Crane--I won't." "Hullo, young man," cried Gerald; "and who's Miss Crane I'd like to know?" "This is, of course--your Mrs. Arkel, but _my_ Miss Crane. She ought to have waited till I was grown up, and I'd have married her," said Dicky with all the solemnity in the world. "You precocious young rascal," laughed Arkel, ruffling the boy's hair. "Are you staying for any time in town, Hilda?" "No, only for a few days. But, Gerald, this is an unexpected pleasure to see _you_. I thought you had joined the noble army of toilers in the city, and weren't visible except by night?" "Nor am I, as a rule. Needs must you know when a certain gentleman's on the box. But, as I was telling my wife, to-day I felt I couldn't stand the place, so I toddled home. It's a case of reward for a lapse from virtue for once in a way." "Well, hard work's good for you, I've no doubt. At all events, you had plenty of play once," said Hilda, putting on her gloves and rising to go. "Yes, this is the swing of the pendulum, I suppose. But, by Jove, if ever it swings back again, I'll take jolly good care it sticks there until I shuffle off, anyhow." And Miriam sighed, knowing only too well how true that was. "Well, come along, Dicky, we must be off; the Major'll be waiting, and he hates that. I've managed a good many things with the Major, but I've never managed to imbue him with a sense of patience." The boy rose rather reluctantly. He would so much rather have stayed with Miriam. He had not had her to himself at all. Gerald put on his hat and coat. "You must let me come some of the way with you," he said. "Oh, no, Gerald, you mustn't leave Miriam--I'm sure she----" "Oh, please don't think about me. It's so dull for Gerald. I'm only too glad for him to enjoy himself when he can." There was a rather embarrassing silence for a few minutes. Then Hilda imprinted upon Miriam's cheek the kiss of Judas, and they left. "Jove, she's about right," said Arkel, when they were out of earshot. "I should think it is dull. I never realised before, Hilda, how much London was the rich man's paradise and the poor man's Sheol." "Oh, come, Gerald, it's not so bad as all that, surely. You're out of sorts to-day." He did not reply, but hailed a four-wheeler that was passing. "Oh, Gerald, why did you do that? I do dislike these dirty growlers," she said.