"What do you think?" said he, walking off with Mrs. Mountjoy's letter
into his wife's room.
"I don't think anything, my dear."
"You never do." Lady Mountjoy, who had not yet undergone her painting,
looked cross and ill-natured. "At any rate, Sarah and her daughter are
proposing to come here."
"Good gracious! At once?"
"Yes, at once. Of course, I've asked them over and over again, and
something was said about this autumn, when we had come back from
Pimperingen."
"Why did you not tell me?"
"Bother! I did tell you. This kind of thing always turns up at last.
She's a very good kind of a woman, and the daughter is all that she
ought to be."
"Of course she'll be flirting with Anderson." Anderson was one of the
two mounted attaches.
"Anderson will know how to look after himself," said Sir Magnus. "At any
rate they must come. They have never troubled us before, and we ought to
put up with them once."
"But, my dear, what is all this about her brother?"
"She won't bring her brother with her."
"How can you be sure of that?" said the anxious lady.
"He is dying, and can't be moved."
"But that son of his--Mountjoy. It's altogether a most distressing
story. He turns out to be nobody after all, and now he has disappeared,
and the papers for an entire month were full of him.
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