han the flat, and
thus this service had become possible.

The Quisantes had taken a house in Grosvenor Road, near Westminster for
Quisante's convenience, by the river, in obedience to his wife's choice.
Here Miss Quisante was welcomed by her nephew's wife and shown her
nephew's daughter. May watched the old lady's face as she perfunctorily
kissed and critically inspected the infant.

"Gaston!" said Aunt Maria at last; relief was clamorous in her tone.

"Yes, Miss Quisante, Gaston, I think," said May, laughing.

The nurse admitted the predominance of Gaston, but with a professional
keenness of eye began to point out minor points in which the baby
"favoured" her father.

"Nonsense, my good woman," snapped Aunt Maria. "The child's got two legs
and two arms, I suppose, as its father has, but that's all the likeness."
Somewhat ruffled (her observations had been well meant) the nurse carried
off her charge.

"You look very well," Aunt Maria went on, "but older, my dear."

"I am both well and older," said May cheerfully. "Think of my
responsibilities! There's the baby! And then Alexander's been seedy. And
we aren't as rich as we should like to be; you of all people must know
that. And there's going to be an election and our seat's very shaky. So
the cares of the world are on me."

"Sandro's been doing well."

"Splendidly, simply splendidly. It's impossible to doubt that he'll do
great things if--if all goes well, and he doesn't make mistakes."

"Seems like making mistakes, does he?"

"Oh, no. I only said 'if.'"

"And you're as happy as you expected to be?"

"Quite, thanks."

"I see. Just about," was Miss Quisante's next observation; since it was a
little hard to answer, May smiled and rang the bell for tea.

"You're very gay, I suppose?" asked the old lady.

"Just as many parties as I can find gowns for," May declared.

"Seen anything of the Benyons lately?"

A little shadow came on May's face. "I hardly ever see Jimmy except at
mother's," she answered. "Dick comes sometimes." She paused a moment, and
then added, "I expect him this afternoon."

"Is he still as devoted to Sandro?"

"He believes in his abilities as enthusiastically as ever." The dry laugh
which Miss Quisante gave was as significant as her "Just about," a few
minutes before. This time May did not laugh, but looked gravely at Aunt
Maria. "They've had a little difference on a political matter. Did you
ever hear of what Dick calls the Crusad