Lord Bracondale arrived at his sister's house in Charles Street about a
quarter of an hour before her luncheon guests were due.
Anne rushed down to see him, meeting her husband on the stairs.
"Oh, don't come in yet, Billy, like a darling," she said, "I want to
talk to Hector alone."
And the meek and fond Lord Anningford had obediently retired to his
smoking-room.
"Well, Hector," she said, when she had greeted him, "and so you are
going to the Fitzgeralds' for Whitsuntide, and not to Bracondale, mother
tells me this morning. She is in the seventh heaven, taking it for a
sign, as you had to manoeuvre so to be asked, that things are coming
to a climax between you and Morella."
"Morella? Is she going?" said Hector, absently. He had quite forgotten
that fact, so perfectly indiffere
