have an idea of the shape Lord Shelmerdine's generosity might assume."
The unhappy Braided Morning Coat regretted exceedingly that it could not disclaim responsibility for both parents.
"But, Mater—!"
"No, do not interrupt, dear Phil-ipp. This is all so important and so delicate. Lord Shelmerdine thinks five hundred pounds—and I am empowered—"
And then it was that Mother found Trouble.
Trouble came to Mother quite unexpected, like a bolt from the blue—or like a shot out of a cannon, according to the subsequent version of an eye-witness.
It would hardly be kind to describe the scene in detail. Lady Macbeth, in spite of her eighty-four summers, made rather short work of Mother. Not that Mother was overborne by Christian meekness altogether. Assured Social Position, knowing itself to be absolutely right, and acting all for the best, does not always offer the other cheek with perfect facility.
Please do not misunderstand us. It was hardly a scene. The proprieties were observed with really Victorian rigidity; it was all very grande dame; but one being Lady Macbeth to John Peter Kendall, and the other a leading Constitutional hostess who had recently moved to Grosvenor Square, well—
Far from Mother's intention to offer an affront to
