"Oh well, it is a good thing, isn't it?" said Dora proudly. "But how did you know? Of course it has been rumoured for some time, but my father only decided things to-day, and we don't want it in the papers for another twenty-four hours."
"It's an appointment in which his peculiar talents will tell," said Brand, drawing a bow at a venture.
"At first it was a toss-up between that and the Colonies," said Dora. "But—but in the present state of——"
"Foreign affairs?" suggested Brand.
"They thought—yes, they thought he would be more useful in that Office."
"Yes, it's a big post," said Brand abstractedly. He looked at his watch. "I wonder how much longer we're going to sit here. I have to make my excuses early to Calvert to-night; a friend of mine is ill, and I promised to go to him straight after dinner." He lowered his voice again. "I tell you this in confidence, of course. My wife has taken out a patent in the art of little human kindnesses, you know; she doesn't like it infringed even by me." He smiled a little pathetically.
Dora put out her hand.
"I know how good you are—no one better. Why, you even helped me once!"
"Ah, that—that was nothing. But some day I shall come upon you for the fulfilment of your promise, Mrs. Farquharson."
Dora looked up, vaguely startled. Brand's tone was intentionally grave.