"Your progress in that direction exceeds mine."
"Don't be troubled by the compliment," interjected Eleanor, before Cecily could speak. "There is no question of merit."
Mrs. Lessingham laughed.
The rain still fell, and the grey heavens showed no breaking. Shortly after this, Elgar would have risen to take his leave, but Mrs. Spence begged him to remain and lunch with them. The visitors from the Mergellina declined a similar invitation.
Edward Spence was passing his morning at the Museum. On his return at luncheon-time, Eleanor met him with the intelligence that Reuben Elgar had presented himself, and was now in his sister's room.
"In forma pauperis, presumably," said Spence, raising his eyebrows.
"I can't say, but I fear it isn't impossible. Cecily and her aunt happened to call this morning, and he had some talk with them."
"Is he very much of a blackguard?" inquired her husband, disinterestedly.
"Indeed, no. That is to say, externally and in his conversation. It's a decided improvement on our old impressions of him."
"I'm glad to hear it," was the dry response.