"You know the lady, then?"
"Well, she's a sort of cousin, I suppose. Her husband was a cousin of Papa's, only that branch of the family happen to be rich, and we are poor. Still, Adrian—that is her only son—has always been very chummy with me, and we have called each other cousin, and got into scrapes together, for which I got all the blame if Lady Mary found it out."
This little gossip went on while Arthur was lifting each article out of his desk, and shaking every folded sheet of paper in the hope of seeing the letter fall on the table. After the desk had been thoroughly routed out, and the things put back in their places, the table-drawer was being treated to the same thorough scrutiny when Mr. Brading opened the door.
"You are looking for that letter we heard of last night, I suppose?" he said, after greeting Mr. Bristow and Arthur as usual.
"Yes, sir, I have turned out my desk, though I don't see how a letter could get in there," said Arthur.
"What about the paper basket?" said Mr. Brading, glancing under the table.
"Oh, that is always emptied before we come! You see it is empty now," said Arthur, pulling it out.
"Yes, I see; and I must write and tell Lady Mary that her letter must have gone astray in the post office."
"Won't she make a fuss at that post office!" said Arthur, when the door closed on Mr. Brading. "I'd give sixpence to be in the fun. I'll look-out for Adrian, if he has not gone to Oxford yet, and get him to tell me all about it. My lady will dance a real Irish jig round the drawing-room when she gets Mr. Brading's letter, and then—"
"You seem to forget that we are in the midst of the fun, as you call it, and that the lady is likely to make the fuss here," said Mr. Bristow, not without some amusement himself, for he had heard of this impulsive Irish lady before to-day.