s. Butterick. What time is it?"

The housekeeper extracted a silver watch with its flowery,
ornamental dial from the recesses of an ample bosom. She drew it out
by the chain and, once free, it swung violently to and fro till she
caught it.

"A quarter past eleven, madam."

"Very well, there's not too much time. I expect my brother and
probably a lady down here to-day. Oh yes, and by the way--when they
come--well--I'll tell that to Taylor. You go and see about the
flowers and the chintz covers at once--and my trunks--immediately.
You'd better come up yourself and unpack for me until Mason arrives."

When once she heard the crunching wheels of the trap upon the drive,
she rang her bell. Mason entered almost immediately.

"Tell Taylor I want her here at once," said Mrs. Durlacher, "and come
and help me dress before you change your things."

The moment she had closed the door, her mistress called her back.

"And send Mrs. Butterick as well."

"Yes, madam."

Mason went downstairs with the report that something was in the air.
She had a feeling, she said.

The interview with Taylor was shorter--more to the point.

"I'm expecting my brother--Mr. Traill, and probably a lady," she said.
She laid no stress on the last word, much as the temptation assailed
her. "It's quite likely they may be down to lunch. When they come,
there is no need to say that I am here, unless, of course, Mr. Traill
asks you. You'd better go and change your dress at once."

Then she turned to Mrs. Butterick.

"You've taken off the chintz covers?" she said.

"Yes, madam."

"Ordered the flowers?"

"Yes, madam."

"Well, now, what have you got in for lunch?"

"There's some lamb, madam."

"Well--that's no good--I'd better tell you what I want. A heavy lunch
like that is impossible. I want all dainty little dishes--something
out of the common, I leave it entirely to you. Four courses will be
enough. And Sauterne and Burgundy. Tell Taylor we'll have coffee in
the dining-room. Now my hair, Mason."

So she marshalled forces, occupied positions and concentrated
artillery in preparation for the siege. The generalship of a woman
is never so keen, so instinct with strategy, as when she gives battle
against another of her sex. Her campaign against men, when once she
takes up arms, is mimic warfare--a sham fight--compared to this.
Against a man, she needs but a company of fascinations, and in one
attack his squares--the stern veterans of determ