"No," she replied, drying her eyes. "They have all arrived and are in their rooms; and"—here she assumed an air of mystery—"in addition to the house-party, I have invited a couple of strangers to dine with us to-day."
"Indeed! Isn't it just a little extraordinary to invite strangers?" he interrupted.
"Strangers they are to me, but not to you. The woman claimed to be a friend of yours."
"Well, I have some friends whom you do not know."
"Miss Emily Tillinghurst, for example."
Rutherford started and turned red.
"Ah!" continued his wife, in a tone of triumph, "I think I have at last detected you. The woman who called upon me this morning—she has but just gone—was a Mrs. Honey. She had a letter of introduction from Lydia Wildfen; and what do you think her business was?"
"How should I know?"
"To solicit our patronage for a school she is going to open in Winchester. She says that you can recommend her because you once personally placed a young girl-pupil under her charge. Though dying of mortification at your having such a secret from me, I pretended to know all about it, and as your friend I asked her to dine with us to-day and to bring her husband."
"Very good," was Rutherford's comment.