"I should be very well if it weren't for this heat," she said pettishly. "Do put that photograph down, George!—you do fidget so! Haven't you got any news for me—anything to amuse me? Oh! those horrid papers!—I see. Well! they'll wait a little. By the way, the 'Morning Post' says that young scamp, Lord Ancoats, has gone abroad. I suppose that girl was bought off."
She sat down again in a shady corner, fanning herself vigorously.
"I am afraid I can't tell you any secrets," said George, smiling, "for I don't know any. But it looks as though Mrs. Allison and Maxwell between them had somehow found a way out."
"How's the mother?"
"You see, she has gone abroad, too—to Bad Wildheim. In fact, Lord
Ancoats has taken her."
"That's the place for heart, isn't it?" said his mother, abruptly.
"There's a man there that cures everybody."
"I believe so," said George. "May we come to business, mother? I have brought these papers for you to sign, and I must get to the House in good time."
Lady Tressady seemed to take no notice. She got up again, restlessly, and walked to the window.
"How do you like my dress, George? Now, don't imagine anything absurd!
Justine made it, and it was quite cheap."
George could not help smiling—all the more that he was conscious of relief. She would not be asking him to admire her dress if there were fresh debts to confess to him.