It wouldn't do to say that she was from the hospital. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. But the five per cent. " "All right. ” She looked thoughtfully into the fire. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door.
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