nd round the room.

"Oh no, mother; I shouldn't care for him to come here."

"Why not, dear?"

"Oh, I can't explain exactly; it isn't the sort of place for him."

Lady Kellynch was positively frightened to ask why, for fear her boy
should show contempt for his own home, so she didn't go into the matter,
but remarked:

"I should think a beautiful house in Onslow Square, with a garden like
this, was just the thing for a boy to like."

He shook his head with a humorous expression of contempt.

"Pickering wouldn't go into a _Square_ garden, mother!"

She waited a moment, wondering what shaped garden was suited to him,
what form of pleasaunce was worthy of the presence of this exceptional
boy, and then said, trying to ascertain the point of view:

"Would you take him to see Percy?"

He brightened up directly.

"Percy! Oh yes, rather. I'd like him to see Bertha. I shall ask her to
let me take him one day."

Lady Kellynch felt vaguely pained, and envious and jealous, but on
reflection realised to herself that probably the wonderful Pickering
would be a very great nuisance, and make a noise, and create general
untidiness and confusion, in which Bertha was quite capable of taking
part; so she said:

"Do so, if you like, dear. You're going to see Bertha soon, aren't you?"

"Yes. I'm going to see her to-day." He quickly put _The English Review_
under the cushion, sitting on it as he saw his mother look up from her
work.

"Bertha's all right; she's pretty too."

"She's very good and kind to you, I must say," said Lady Kellynch. "As
they have asked you so often, I think I should like you to pay her a
nice little attention to-day, dear. Take her a pretty basket of
flowers."

Clifford's handsome dark face became overclouded with boredom.

"Oh, good Lord, mother! can't you telephone to a florist and have it
sent to her, if she's _got_ to have vegetables?"

"But surely, dear, it would be nicer for you to take it."

"Oh, mother, it would be awful rot, carting about floral tribs in a taxi
all over London."

"Floral tribs? What are floral tribs? Oh, tributes! I see! In a taxi!
No. I never dreamt of your doing such a thing. Ridiculous extravagance!
Go from Kensington to Sloane Street in a taxi!"

"How did you suppose I'd take it, then?"

"I supposed you'd walk," said Lady Kellynch, in a frightened voice.

"Walk! Great Scott! Walk with a basket of flowers! What next! I didn't
know you were bringing me up as a m