"Oh, of course not—now!"
"But I hear he's doing magnificently. Sure to get in. But Gilly's the best fun. When Andy is off electioneering, Gilly works like a horse. Sandwiches in the office for lunch, with a glass of sherry from the pub round the corner! I caught him at it once; he was awfully disgusted."
"Gilly lunching on sandwiches and a glass of sherry from the pub!" Her voice was full of wondering amazement.
"Yes, he won't hear the last of that in a hurry! When he did come to lunch the other day, we all went early and had a nice little pile of ham sandwiches and a liqueur glass of Marsala ready for him when he came in. You should have seen his face—and not heard his language!" The unnatural brother laughed. "You see, Andy didn't want to stand because of neglecting the business, and Gilly backed himself to take on the work so as not to stand in Andy's way. And he's doing it."
"But that's awfully fine of Gilly, I think."
"So it is, of course. That's why he gets so riled when anybody says anything about it."
The Nun nodded in understanding. "And Harry?" she asked.
"They were abroad or in Scotland all the winter; came back to town about a month ago. They've taken a flat in Clarges Street for the season, I believe."
"Have you been to call on Mrs. Harry Belfield?"
"Well, no, I haven't. I don't know what he wants. I think I'll leave him to begin. It seems to be the same old game with him. One sees him everywhere."