"I wonder," she said slowly, "if I shall get it?"
Penelope glanced at her sharply.
"It's highly improbable," she said. "But a little philosophy would be quite as useful—and a far more likely acquisition."
As she finished speaking a bell pealed through the flat—pealed with an irritable suggestion that it had been rung unavailingly before. Followed the abigail's footstep as she pursued her unhurried way to answer its imperative demand, and presently a visitor was shown into the room. He was a man of over seventy, erect and well-preserved, with white hair and clipped moustache. There was an indefinable courtliness of manner about him which recalled the days of lace ruffles and knee-breeches. The two girls rose to greet him with unfeigned delight.
"Uncle!" cried Nan. "How dear of you to come just when our spirits were at their lowest ebb!"
"My dears!" He kissed his niece and shook hands with Penelope. Nan pushed an armchair towards the fire and tendered her cigarette case.
"You needn't be afraid of them, Uncle David," she informed him reassuringly. "They're not gaspers."
"Sybarite! With the same confidence as if they were my own." And Lord
St. John helped himself smilingly.
"And why," he continued, "has the barometer fallen?"
Nan laughed.