io8 The Real Charlotte. 



with orthodox unction ; " what are children compared to the 

 husband ? " 



" Oh — er — of course not," said Lady Dysart, with some- 

 thing less than her usual conviction of utterance, her 

 thoughts flying to Sir Benjamin and his bath chair. 



" By the way," struck in Mrs. Gascogne, " my husband 

 desired me to say that he hopes to come over to-morrow 

 afternoon to see Mr, Lambert, and to hear all about the 

 accident." 



Mrs. Lambert looked more perturbed than gratified. " It's 

 very kind of the Archdeacon, I'm sure," she said nervously ; 

 " but Mr. Lambert — " (Mrs. Lambert belonged to the large 

 class of women who are always [jarticular to speak of their 

 husbands by their full style and title) "Mr. Lambert is 

 most averse to talking about it, and perhaps— if the 

 Archdeacon didn't mind — " 



*' That's just what I complain of in Christopher," ex- 

 claimed Lady Dysart, breaking with renewed vigour into 

 the conversation. " He was 7nost unsatisfactory about it all. 

 Of course, when he came home that night, he was so ex- 

 hausted that I spared him. I said, ' Not one word will I 

 allow you to say to-night, and I command you to stay in bed 

 for breakfast to-morrow morning ! ' I even went down at 

 one o'clock, and pinned a paper on William's door, so that 

 he shouldn't call him. Well — " Lady Dysart, at this 

 turning-point of her story, found herself betrayed into 

 saying " My dear," but had presence of mind enough to 

 direct the expression at Mrs. Gascogne. " Well, my dear, 

 when I went up in the morning, craving foF news, he was 

 most confused and unsatisfactory. He pretended he knew 

 nothing of how it had happened, and that after the upset 

 they all went drifting about in a sort of a knot till the yacht 

 came down on top of them. But, of course, something 

 more must have happened to them than that I It really 

 was the greatest pity that Miss Fitzpatrick got stunned by 

 that blow on the head just at the beginning of the whole 

 business. She would have told us all about it. But men 

 never can describe anything." 



*' Oh, well, I assure you. Lady Dysart," piped the turkey 

 hen, " Mr. Lambert described to me all that he possibly 

 could, and he said Mr. Dysart gave every assistance in his 



