although I can assure you—but pray don't let it go further—it was very seldom they could afford a joint for dinner."
"She brought it all on herself," said Lady Hemingway; "with her figure she might have married very well indeed. By the bye, does Godfrey resemble his mother?"
The Captain shook his head mournfully. "He's an ugly chap," he said, "but you get used to him—I'll say that."
"Ah!" said Lady Hemingway. "Grace never told me that. She has met him several times at 'At Homes,' and at one thing and another. All I could get out of her was that he had a nice voice and looked powerful—which of course would apply to a coal-heaver."
Every one looked at Grace, who again blushed.
"I should like to be kind to him," continued Lady Hemingway, "because of poor darling Constance. I will send him a card for my Thursdays. Men are always useful."
"Godfrey doesn't shine in society," said the Captain, "and it's mere waste to put a good dinner before him."
"What a strange thing! And his father was such a gentlemanly man!" said Lady Hemingway.
"Godfrey's rum," observed the Captain.
"He's a dear fellow when you know him," said Mrs. Golightly; "of course he can be very trying, but he's so kind if one has a headache!"
"Poets have always a touch of the molly-coddle," said her sister-in-law. Then she rose, murmured she must be going, and kissed the air at an angle of forty-five degrees from Mrs. Golightly's cheek."Good-
