"Don't you make any such mistake. I never seek cheap praise by crying down my virtues. Were you my father-confessor--which you are not--and I religious--which I have no inclination to be--I should shock you into Hilda's state. Poor little thing, what an undisciplined mind she has, and how she does work for those tyrants the emotions! I think you had better send for Joan: she is used to women who run wild." "You put things unpleasantly," said he, uneasily. "And truthfully. Answer my question, please." "Joan arrives to-morrow with her mother." "I am glad," Leah assured him fervently. "Too many female cooks can never spoil the funeral broth. The more women you have in a mourning house the better. We like to weep in company and to talk obituary notices. That is, other women do. I fancy I have a dash of the man in me, and this sort of undertaker rejoicing gives me the creeps." Lionel secretly agreed with her, although he disapproved of the mode of expression. Ostentatious grief he disliked, as most men do, and discussing funeral emotions threadbare was not to his healthy liking. Therefore did he talk business with Lady Jim. It was necessary to distract his attention, she said, and so set about plundering the heir. By the time coffee arrived Lionel had promised her the Curzon Street house as a gift, and had agreed to pay all debts as the late Duke had arranged. Also, untruthfully assured by Leah that her temporal prosperity had suffered by the untimely demise of Jim, he promised to pay a quarterly thousand a year for the rest of her life. "Yes," said Lionel, emphatically, "even if you marry, Lady James." "I have no intention of marrying yet," said Leah, who was busy with Kümmel. She really felt that the consoling of a tearful widow required Kümmel. "I thought that Mr. Askew admired you." "He admires a new schooner he has bought, and some woman in South America. Oh, Mr. Askew has a catholic mind, I can tell you." "Dr. Demetrius!" "He has gone to Russia, I believe, on business connected with his pardon. Didn't Joan tell you how he was taken ill in Paris?" "Yes; what a strange thing!" "Oh, I don't know. He once told me that he inherited fits--mother's side. It was very rude of him to have one in my rooms, but some men are so inconsiderate." "He loves you." "Or loved me--which?" "Present tense, I fancy. Will you marry him?" "Will I marry the Emperor of China, you mean. No, thanks; I have no wish to live in a country of bounce and bombs. And I never could read those novels written by men with unpronounceable names. Besides, I can't bear dapper little men with waxed moustaches. I only tolerated Dr. Demetrius because he was useful to Jim." "A great friend of your husband's, I believe." "Do you? Does one generally make a friend of one's doctor?" "The man was certainly credited with being your friend. And more, he talked openly of his love for you."