She shook hands with Mr. Fisher, and bowed to Ethel Dunlop; then she went slowly out of the room on Walter’s arm, the long train of Madame Celestine’s dress sweeping behind her.
“Good-night, Mrs. Hibbert,” Mr. Wimple said, and, shaking hands quickly with the air of a man who has many engagements and suddenly remembered one that must be instantly kept, he too was gone.
He was just in time to reach the carriage door.
“Mrs. Baines,” he said, “I think you said you were going to South Kensington—could you take me as far as Queen’s Gate?”
“I wonder where he is going,” Walter said to himself as he went upstairs again; “I don’t believe he knows a soul in Queen’s Gate.”
CHAPTER V.
