"Champagne, my lady?" inquired the servant over her shoulder.
"No, thank you," murmured Lady Alice.
M. Varbarriere took some and sipped it, wondering how Sir Jekyl contrived to get such wines, and mentally admitting that even in the champagne countries it would task him—M. Varbarriere—to find its equal. And he said—
"Yes, Lady Alice, divine philosophy, but not easy to practise. I fear it is as hard to do one as the other."
"And how is Mr. Strangways?" inquired Lady Alice.
They were talking very confidentially and in a low tone, as if old Strangways' health was the subject of conspiracy.
"Growing old, Lady Alice; he has not spared himself; otherwise well."
"And this, you say, is his nephew?" continued the old lady. "And you?"
"I am Guy's uncle—his mother's brother."
"And his mother, is she living?"