"Who? Oh, that man who came to think he was the Roman Empire. Now his work would bore me--I'm not stupid enough to appreciate him." "Julia"--this was Lady Hengist--"Julia and I read Gibbon during the honeymoon, and received much instruction." "Oh, Lord!" said Lady Jim; "as though honeymoons were not disagreeable enough without that!" The idea made her laugh consumedly. In her mind's eye she saw this new Paolo and Francesca reading heavy prose in ten volumes. But Hengist did not even smile--he had absolutely no sense of humour. Besides, he considered his companion's chatter painfully frivolous, and sighed to think that she had such a light nature. Leah, still laughing, glanced sideways. "I shall begin to think you are discontented, Lord Hengist." "I am, that I cannot do the good I should like to do. Both Julia and I wish to benefit mankind." "The twelve labours of Hercules, with no thanks for their accomplishment." "We don't want thanks, but results," said Hengist, austerely; "and we can commence in a small way. Next summer we intend to invite five hundred Whitechapel children to the Castle. Will you come and help us to entertain them, Lady James?" "Delighted," yawned Leah, for the man spoke like a copy-book; "but I hope you'll wash them first. It will prevent disease, and give some new soap a philanthropic advertisement." Hengist eyed her suspiciously. He was a very, very dull young lord, large-hearted and unintelligent, who took life so seriously that he had almost forgotten how to laugh. England clean, England contented, England happy. He constantly started crusades to bring on a premature millennium, and earned his reward, after the manner of reformers, by being abused in halfpenny newspapers as one who attempted to avert certain revolution, by stuffing the starving with sweets. Lady Jim thought him a bore and a prig, and too virtuous to be amusing. But that he and his wife were of use to her, she would not have endured this presentation of his year-before-last's Tree-of-Knowledge apples. He never plucked fresh fruit, and his Eve was quite as blind as he in discerning up-to-date harvests. Still, Hengist was a sort of bell-wether, leading a flock of prize sheep towards a closely guarded fold. Leah liked the fun and money and adulation of the smart set, but she had no notion of being a shut-out Peri from that dull paradise that the newly rich longed for. Besides, its very dullness gave a fillip to her enjoyment of the larky amusements of those who could not enter the sacred ark. "I am really very fond of children," she said, to do away with the effect of her last remark. "I wish I had some myself," and she sighed very prettily. "Hilda Frith is more fortunate than I, with her two dear babies." "Both girls. I fancy Frith would like a son and heir." "I'm sure he would, and both Jim and I would be the very first to congratulate him." "Your husband is next in succession?"