anybody else comparable to herself.

At first she had been a little apologetic and diffident about her
offspring. But soon the man-child had established an important
position in the flat, and though he was generally invisible, his
individuality pervaded the whole place. G.J. had easily got accustomed
to the new inhabitant. He tolerated and then liked the babe. He had
never nursed it--for such an act would have been excessive--but he had
once stuck his finger in its mouth, and he had given it a perambulator
that folded up. He did venture secretly to hope that Braiding would
not imagine it to be his duty to provide further for the needs of the
Empire.

That Mrs. Braiding had grown rather shameless in motherhood was shown
by her quite casual demeanour as she now came into the drawing-room
with the baby, for this was the first time she had ever come into the
drawing-room with the baby, knowing her august master to be there.

"Mrs. Braiding," said G.J. "That child ought to be asleep."

"He is asleep, sir," said the woman, glancing into the mysteries of
the immortal package, "but Maria hasn't been able to get back yet
because of the raid, and I didn't want to leave him upstairs alone
with the cat. He slept all through the raid."

"It seems some of you have made the cellar quite comfortable."

"Oh, yes, sir. Particularly now with the oilstove and the carpet.
Perhaps one night you'll come down, sir."

"I may have to. I shouldn't have been much surprised to find some
damage here to-night. They've been very close, you know.... Near
Leicester Square." He could not be troubled to say more than that.

"Have they really, sir? It's just like them," said Mrs. Braiding. And
she then continued in exactly the same tone: "Lady Queenie Paulle has
just been telephoning from Lechford House, sir." She still--despite
her marvellous experiences--impishly loved to make extraordinary
announcements as if they were nothing at all. And she felt an uplifted
satisfaction in having talked to Lady Queenie Paulle herself on the
telephone.

"What does _she_ want?" G.J. asked impatiently, and not at all in a
voice proper for the mention of a Lady Queenie to a Mrs. Braiding.
He was annoyed; he resented any disturbance of the repose which he so
acutely needed.

Mrs. Braiding showed that she was a little shocked. The old harassed
look of bearing up against complex anxieties came into her face.

"Her ladyship wished to speak to you, sir, on a matte