high detachment of the superior servant who has embraced the conception of unpacking.
"Might I ask you for your keys, sir?"
Dennis Vidal had a light—he smote his forehead. "Stupid—it's in my portmanteau!"
"Then go and get it!" said Rose, who perceived as she spoke, by the door that faced her, that Tony Bream was rejoining them. She got up, and Tony, agitated, as she could see, but with complete command of his manners, immediately and sociably said to Dennis that he was ready to guide him upstairs. Rose, at this, interposed. "Do let Walker take him—I want to speak to you."
Tony smiled at the young man. "Will you excuse me then?" Dennis protested against the trouble he was giving, and Walker led him away. Rose meanwhile waited not only till they were out of sight and of earshot, but till the return of Tony, who, his hand on Vidal's shoulder, had gone with them as far as the door.
"Has he brought you good news?" said the master of Bounds.
"Very good. He's very well; he's all right."
Tony's flushed face gave to the laugh with which
