"Joseph,"—Mrs. Delarayne began seriously,—"shall I tell you what it is? You are jealous."

He laughed uproariously. "Oh, Edith, it takes you to say a thing like that! Absurd! Absurd!" Then he added seriously. "But really, I have heard things about Lord Henry that have compelled me to lose my respect for him."

"Who told you?"

"Denis, for one."

"Denis is jealous too!" cried the widow.

"Now, my dear, do be reasonable! Are we all jealous of Lord Henry then?"

"I should think it most highly probable—yes."

"Well, anyway," Sir Joseph continued, frowning darkly, "Denis assured me on his oath,—on his oath, understand, that Lord Henry, this son of a noble marquis, this wonderful nerve specialist, this reformer of the world, this——"

"Yes, all right, Joseph. You don't shine at that sort of oratory. What has Lord Henry done?"

"He has not only constantly engaged Leonetta in unsuitable conversation, but to-day, he actually kissed her!"