“Eh?” said Sir Harry. “Happened? Oh! thought I’d told you. It’s old Horniman’s sister.”
“Do you mean Miss Horniman is dead, Harry?” said Lady Waring.
His defences now being breached, Sir Harry cast aside his pose of indifference and said the old lady had died at two o’clock that afternoon quite peacefully and the funeral was to be the day after to-morrow.
“And none of that nonsense about no mourning,” said Sir Harry. “I asked Ford and he says there’s a very sensible niece who is arranging everything. What’s the use of people dying if they don’t want anyone to wear mourning? Might as well stay alive and make nuisances of themselves that way. No patience with them.”
“But Uncle Harry, don’t you think that they really don’t want to be mourned for sometimes?” said Leslie. “I mean if they ar
