gressiveness. "Elly is going to take me off to Marienbad next week or
the week after," he said. "I shall have a cure and she'll have a treat,
and we shall come back as fit as fiddles." The incidents of the past
month were to be put on a facetious footing it appeared. "It's a mercy
they didn't crop her hair," he said, apropos of nothing and with an air
of dry humour. No further allusion was made to Lady Harman's
incarceration.

He was dressed in a lama wool bedroom suit and his resting leg was
covered by a very splendid and beautiful fur rug. All Euphemia's best
and gayest cushions sustained his back. The furniture had been
completely rearranged for his comfort and convenience. Close to his hand
was a little table with carefully selected remedies and aids and helps
and stimulants, and the latest and best of the light fiction of the day
was tossed about between the table, the couch and the floor. At the foot
of the couch Euphemia's bedroom writing-table had been placed, and over
this there were scattered traces of the stenographer who had assisted
him to wipe off the day's correspondence. Three black cylinders and
other appliances in the corner witnessed that his slight difficulty in
breathing could be relieved by oxygen, and his eyes were regaled by a
great abundance of London flowers at every available point in the room.
Of course there were grapes, fabulous looking grapes.

Everything conspired to give Sir Isaac and his ownership the centre of
the picture. Mr. Brumley had been brought upstairs to him, and the tea
table, with scarcely a reference to anyone else, was arranged by Snagsby
conveniently to his hand. And Sir Isaac himself had a confidence--the
assurance of a man who has been shaken and has recovered. Whatever tears
he had ever shed had served their purpose and were forgotten. "Elly" was
his and the house was his and everything about him was his--he laid his
hand upon her once when she came near him, his possessiveness was so
gross--and the strained suspicion of his last meeting with Mr. Brumley
was replaced now by a sage and wizened triumph over anticipated and
arrested dangers.

Their party was joined by Sir Isaac's mother, and the sight of her
sturdy, swarthy, and rather dignified presence flashed the thought into
Mr. Brumley's mind that Sir Isaac's father must have been a very blond
and very nosey person indeed. She was homely and practical and
contributed very usefully to a conversation that remained a