"The fifth is—" Eugene paused a moment, as though preparing a sensation; "the fifth is—Father Stafford."
Now it was a remarkable thing that all the ladies looked up quickly and re-echoed the name of the last guest in accents of awe, whereas the men seemed unaffected.
"Why, where did you pick him up?" asked Lady Claudia.
"Pick him up! I've known Charley Stafford since we were both that high. We were at Harrow and at Oxford together. Rickmansworth knows him, Bob. You didn't come till he'd left."
"Why is the gentleman called 'Father'?" said Bob.
"Because he is a priest," Miss Chambers answered. "And really, Mr. Territon, you're very ignorant. Everybody knows Father Stafford. You do, Mr. Haddington?"
"Yes," said Haddington, "I've heard of him. He's an Anglican Father, isn't he? Had a big parish somewhere down the Mile End Road?"
"Yes," said Eugene. "He's an old and a great friend of mine. He's quite knocked up, poor old chap, and had to get leave of absence; and I've made him promise to come and stay here for a good part of the time, to rest."
"Then he's not going off again on Monday?" asked Mrs. Lane.
"Oh, I hope not. He's writing a book or something, that will keep him from being restless."