"Who are they?"
"A young man you know--a young woman you would like to know."
Silence. Lady Niton sat down again.
"Kindly ring the bell," she said, lifting a peremptory hand, "and send for my carriage."
"Let me parley an instant," said Sir James, moving between her and the bell. "Bobbie is just off to Berlin. Won't you say good-bye to him?"
"Mr. Forbes's movements are entirely indifferent to me--ring!" Then, shrill-voiced--and with sudden fury, like a bird ruffling up: "Berlin, indeed! More waste--more shirking! He needn't come to me! I won't give him another penny."
"I don't advise you to offer it," said Sir James, with suavity. "Bobbie has got a post in Berlin through his uncle, and is going off for a twelvemonth to learn banking."
Lady Niton sat blinking and speechless. Sir James drew the muslin curtain back from the window.
"There they are, you see--Bobbie--and the Explanation. And if you ask me, I think the Explanation explains."
Lady Niton put up her gold-rimmed glasses.