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“Oh, very well, indeed. He did get into hot water once with some great person there over a report he wrote about rice-fields or something—but don’t ask me what it was all about! And, as Mr. Granby says, it’s rather a good thing for a man to have a little hot water sometimes—wakes him up. He thought Mr. Campbell had been rather shunted home—given leave of absence, you know; but said it would be all right when he went back; and they all said he was a rising man. I think it’s rather a pity he should be left to Mrs. Austin altogether, and I asked him to come to dinner some day soon.”

“Yes?” said Alice, dreamily. “And then we can have some more of that chocolate soufflé that Mrs. Mead never will make when we are alone. You do mean a little dinner, don’t you, Clare? Not only the feast of reason and the flow of soul over your London scandals?”

“Dinner is served, mam!” reported Mead, in his sternest military tones, as he drew back a heavy chair from the head of the table with an ominous creak that spoke volumes for the premier’s temper if they allowed her Palestine soup to get cold; and the discussion of the latest Green Street gossip was adjourned pro tem. in the presence of more important matters of state.