No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. “Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. But it was hopelessly hard to put. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him. They then swiftly mounted the stairs, and stopped before the audience-chamber. “You are absurd,” she declared. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. Nasty, damp passages. “Very well,” she would say, “then I must go.
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