Ridgwell and Christine shook their heads.
"Well, in to-day's paper there was one paragraph that threw out a very decided hint that the present Lord Mayor of London was going to be knighted by the King, not only on account of his public worth, but because the wonderful Home for London Children he has built is almost completed."
"Of course, the new Lord Mayor is Alderman Gold?" inquired Christine.
"He was Alderman Gold," said the Writer, "but I think myself before many days have passed it will be Sir Simon and Lady Gold."
"Who is Lady Gold? You never told us a word about Lady Gold," objected
Ridgwell.
"Ah," said the Writer, "that will all come in the second part of my story. Any way, no name was ever more appropriate than hers. She is absolutely gold all through, head and heart and everything. Lady Gold is, I consider, an absolutely suitable name for her, although two people I know always call her Mum; and, do you know, I think she will prefer that title, even when she gets the other."
"Who are the two people who call her Mum?"
"That's telling in advance," observed the Writer, as he helped himself to a fourth muffin; "and of course to tell in advance always spoils a story. But I intend that both of you children shall hear and see the story to an end. In three days' time from now I am coming to fetch you both, and you will be able to see the Lord Mayor drive past in state, for I am giving a tea to celebrate that great occasion and also another great occasion at one and the same time. I will finish the story then, and you will both meet the Lord Mayor of London."
"Will he have his robes on?" inquired Christine expectantly.
"I don't know that he will wear them, but perhaps I could induce him to bring them with him to show us."