“I think it is our duty as loyal subjects to listen to what the head of our army has to say,” stiffly replied Lord Mowbray.
“Come along then, Dan.” The two men left the window, and passed through the crowd who were loudly discussing the subject of art reform. As they came to the next bow window, Lionel saw Gwen and Eva engrossed in a lively conversation with Sinclair. Lionel stopped, and laying his hand on Danford’s arm said, “I shall not disturb them. When a man has found one of the rings that form the chain of life, he must be left to rivet it without any interference.”
“What is to be done with the War Office?” the rough voice of the ex-general suddenly hushed the buzzing _causerie_; and these portentous words reached the ears of Lionel and Danford as they swung the doors open, and passed out.
“Ha! ha! ha!” Danford held his sides, convulsed with laughter. “Even the ex-hero of civilised warfare is puzzled at what is to be done with his obsolete bag of tricks!”
“Poor Mowbray will lose another illusion,” remarked Lionel, and the two men walked up toward St James’s Park.
“I shall do your hair for you, mother dear,” said Eva one morning. They were both in Lady Carey’s dressing-room, as it was the time when the maid was rung for to attend to her mistress’s coiffure.
“A very good idea, Eva. I must say I never feel quite at my ease with Elise, and I ring for her as seldom as I can now. It does seem so funny to give orders to a person who stands just as naked as you are.”
“Oh! I am so glad! I have been longing to arrange your lovely hair in my own way,” and Eva clapped her hands with joy.
“You are very brusque, Eva—here are the hairpins, and the brush is in that drawer.”
Eva held the mass of auburn hair in her fingers, and softly brushed it off the delicate temples of her mother.
“I am afraid, dear child, you have lost a great deal of your ladylike grace since you have been a regular attendant at these public tournaments. You associate with such a queer lot there; I am sure it must be fatal to good manners.”
In a few seconds Eva had wound the rich coils of hair into a Grecian knot on the shapely head of her mother.
“You look a perfect dear, mother; so like the Medici Venus—you don’t know how perfectly lovely you are.” The girl kissed Lady Carey and sat at her feet.