“When is she coming home?”
“Not until July. You must come to see us at Newport.”
“Nothing could please me better—if I can get away.”
“I’ll send you an invitation, although you have treated me very badly of late. But I suppose you are busy.”
“Busy? Isn’t a galley slave always busy?”
“Are you still writing editorials?”
“Yes—and on the fallen News-Record. In fact——”
“Well—what?”
Howard laughed. “Don’t faint,” he said. “I’ll leave you at once if you wish me to, and I’ll never give it away that you once knew me. I’m the editor—the responsible devil for the depravity.”
“How interesting!” Mrs. Carnarvon was evidently not disturbed. Then the American adoration of success came out. “I’m so glad you’re getting on. I always knew you would. Really, you must come to dinner. I’ll invite some of the people you’ve been attacking. They’ll like to look at you, and you will be amused by them. And I don’t in the least mind your giving it to them if they bait you, as I did this morning. Will you come?”