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inconsolable.
I stared at her for a moment and then at Dora's broad back and
sturdy hips. Inconsolable? I can't make out what the good lady
is driving at. If she were a vulgar woman trying to squeeze her
way into society and needed the lubricant of the family
baronetcy, I could understand her eagerness to parade me as her
appanage. But titles in her drawingroom are as common as
teacups. And the inconsolability of Dora
If I did come she would be bored to death, said I.
She is willing to risk it.
But why should she seek martyrdom?
There is another reason, said my aunt, ignoring my pertinent
question, but glancing at me reassuringly there is another
reason why it would be well for you to come on this cruise with
us. She sank her voice. You met Miss Gascoigne in the park
last week
A very charming and kind young lady, said I.
I am afraid you have been a little indiscreet. People have been
talking.
Then theirs, not mine, is the indiscretion.
But, my dear Marcus, when you spring a goodlooking young
person, whom you introduce as your Mohammedan ward, upon London
society, and she makes a scene in publicwhywhat else have
people got to talk about?
They might fall back upon the doctrine of predestination or the
price of fish, I replied urbanely.
But I assure you, Marcus, that there is a hint of scandal
abroad. It is actually said that she is living here.
People will say anything, true or untrue, said I.
My aunt sighfully acquiesced, and for a while we discussed the
depravity of human nature.
I have been thinking, she said at last, that if you brought
your ward to see us, and she could accompany us on this cruise to
Norway, the scandal would be scotched outright.
She glanced at me very keenly, and beneath her indulgent smile I
saw the hardness of the old campaigner. It was a clever trap she
had prepared for me.
I took her hand and in my noblest manner, like the exiled vicomte
in costume drama, bent over it and kissed her fingertips.
I thank you, my dear aunt, for your generous faith in my
integrity, I said, and I assure you your confidence is well
founded.
A loud, gay laugh from the other room interrupted me.
Are you two rehearsing private theatricals? cried Dora. As I
was attired in a remarkably old college blazer and a pair of
yellow Moorish slippers bought a couple of years ago in Tangier,
and as my hair was straight on end, owing to a habit of passing

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