“You wonderful being,” she gasped.
Jim presented Miss Burden to his mother with a formal and becoming gravity. There was always a veiled tenderness about the eyes of Miss Burden which to some people rendered her oddly attractive. Her air of shyness was also thought by some to be a merit.
“So sweet of you to come,” said Jim’s mother. She had already performed the feminine operation of falling in love with Miss Burden at first sight.
“I should also like, my dear,” said Jim, with excellent gravity, “to make you and Lord Cheriton acquainted with one another. You can’t think how kind he has been to me.”
Jim’s mother gazed demurely into the complacent and amused countenance of that peer.
“I think I ought to be able to guess,” said she.
“Capital,” that peer was heard to murmur with extraordinary irrelevance.
“I beg your pardon,” said Jim.
“Not at all, my dear fellow,” said Cheriton, in his most graciously musical manner, “not at all. I made no observation. But I should like to be allowed to make one. What remarkable sunshine for London.”
“The sunshine is occasionally quite obtrusive at Balham,” said Jim’s mother. “Lower the sunblind a little, laddie. You will find that chair the coolest, Lord Cheriton.”