sely-covered head as he
spoke.

'And I would not, if I was you, Mathew Kearney,' said she resolutely. 'They
tell me that in that House of Lords you are going to, more than half of
them are bald.'

There was no possible doubt that she meant by this speech to deliver a
challenge, and Kate's look, at once imploring and sorrowful, appealed to
her for mercy.

'No, thank you,' said Miss Betty to the servant who presented a dish,
'though, indeed, maybe I'm wrong, for I don't know what's coming.'

'This is the _menu_,' said Nina, handing a card to her.

'The bill of fare, godmother,' said Kate hastily.

'Well, indeed, it's a kindness to tell me, and if there is any more
novelties to follow, perhaps you'll be kind enough to inform me, for I
never dined in the Greek fashion before.'

'The Russian, I believe, madam, not the Greek,' said Nina.

'With all my heart, my dear. It's about the same, for whatever may happen
to Mathew Kearney or myself, I don't suspect either of us will go to live
at Moscow.'

'You'll not refuse a glass of port with your cheese?' said Kearney.

'Indeed I will, then, if there's any beer in the house, though perhaps it's
too vulgar a liquor to ask for.'

While the beer was being brought, a solemn silence ensued, and a less
comfortable party could not easily be imagined.

When the interval had been so far prolonged that Kearney himself saw the
necessity to do something, he placed his napkin on the table, leaned
forward with a half-motion of rising, and, addressing Miss Betty, said,
'Shall we adjourn to the drawing-room and take our coffee?'

'I'd rather stay where I am, Mathew Kearney, and have that glass of port
you offered me a while ago, for the beer was flat. Not that I'll detain the
young people, nor keep yourself away from them very long.'

When the two girls withdrew, Nina's look of insolent triumph at Kate
betrayed the tone she was soon to take in treating of the old lady's good
manners.

'You had a very sorry dinner, Miss Betty, but I can promise you an honest
glass of wine,' said Kearney, filling her glass.

'It's very nice,' said she, sipping it, 'though, maybe, like myself, it's
just a trifle too old.'

'A good fault, Miss Betty, a good fault.'

'For the wine, perhaps,' said she dryly, 'but maybe it would taste better
if I had not bought it so dearly.'

'I don't think I understand you.'

'I was about to say that I have forfeited that young lady's esteem by the
way I obtai