ree Dain manufactories, and
found Lady Dain superintending the work of packing up trunks. He and
she were to quit the castle that afternoon in order to spend Christmas
on the other side of the Five Towns, under the roof of their eldest
son, John, who had a new house, a new wife, and a new baby (male). John
was a domineering person, and, being rather proud of his house and all
that was his, he had obstinately decided to have his own Christmas at
his own hearth. Grandpapa and Grandmamma, drawn by the irresistible
attraction of that novelty, a grandson (though Mrs John HAD declined to
have the little thing named Jehoshaphat), had yielded to John's
solicitations, and the family gathering, for the first time in history,
was not to occur round Sir Jee's mahogany.

Sir Jee, very characteristically, said nothing to Lady Dain
immediately. He allowed her to proceed with the packing of the trunks,
and then tea was served, and as the time was approaching for the
carriage to come round to take them to the station, at last he suddenly
remarked--

'I shan't be able to go with you to John's this afternoon.'

'Oh, Jee!' she exclaimed. 'Really, you are tiresome. Why couldn't you
tell me before?'

'I will come over tomorrow morning--perhaps in time for church,' he
proceeded, ignoring her demand for an explanation.

He always did ignore her demand for an explanation. Indeed, she only
asked for explanations in a mechanical and perfunctory manner--she had
long since ceased to expect them. Sir Jee had been born like
that--devious, mysterious, incalculable. And Lady Dain accepted him as
he was. She was somewhat surprised, therefore, when he went on--

'I have some minutes of committee meetings that I really must go
carefully through and send off tonight, and you know as well as I do
that there'll be no chance of doing that at John's. I've telegraphed to
John.'

He was obviously nervous and self-conscious.

'There's no food in the house,' sighed Lady Dain. 'And the servants are
all going away except Callear, and HE can't cook your dinner tonight. I
think I'd better stay myself and look after you.'

'You'll do no such thing,' said Sir Jee, decisively. 'As for my dinner,
anything will do for that. The servants have been promised their
holiday, to start from this evening, and they must have it. I can
manage.'

Here spoke the philanthropist with his unshakable sense of justice.

So Lady Dain departed, anxious and worried, having previ