"Certainly!"
The widow entered. Her costume—perhaps in anticipation of the sunny season—was more elaborate and striking than formerly. She looked a younger woman, and walked with lighter step.
"I came to see Mrs. Quarrier, but she is out. You, I'm afraid, are frightfully busy?"
"No, no. This is the breathing time of the day with me. I've just got rid of our journalist. Sit down, pray."
"Oh, I won't stop. But tell Lilian I am eager to see her."
"She is off canvassing—really and truly! Gone to assail Mrs. Powell. Astonishing enthusiasm!"
"I'm delighted to hear it!"
The exclamation lingered a little, and there was involuntary surprise on Mrs. Wade's features. She cast a glance round the room.
"Do sit down," urged Denzil, placing a chair. "What do you think of Dizzy's letter? Did you ever read such bunkum? And his 'men of light and leading'—ha, ha, ha!"
"He has stolen the phrase," remarked Mrs. Wade. "Where from, I can't say; but I'm perfectly sure I have come across it."