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He leans against the window and looks out anxiously upon the darkening twilight. His mother watches him with curious eyes. Suddenly he electrifies the whole room by whistling in a light and airy fashion his favorite song from "Madame Favart." It is the "Artless Thing," and nothing less, and he whistles it deliberately and dreamily from start to finish. "Oh, is that their name?—a pretty one too—if—er—somewhat difficult," says Lady Lilias, courteously. "Well as I was saying, in spite of their tails, they really are quite pretty." And so does Captain Rodney..

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"An' a nate color too," says this woman, who is bare-footed, beneath her breath, regarding with admiration the yellow tint of the object on which she is engaged. Two pullets, feathered like a partridge, are creeping stealthily into the dairy, their heads turned knowingly on one side, their steps slow and cautious; not even the faintest chirrup escapes them, lest it be the cause of their instant dismissal. There is no sound anywhere but the soft music that falls from Mona's lips. In thought she had been miles away, and has just come back to the present with a start of guilt at her own neglect of her guest. She honestly believes, in her confusion, that Lady Lilias has been making some inquiries about the secret panel, and therefore makes her extraordinary remark with the utmost bonhommie and cheerfulness. "At least they are a pretty shape," says the duchess glancing at the slim little hands lying gloved in their owner's lap. "But I don't think you quite understood the 'going out' in the light that I did. I mean, did you go much into society?" "It looks like the production of a lunatic,—a very dangerous lunatic,—an habitue of Colney Hatch," muses Geoffrey, who is growing more and more puzzled with the paper's contents the oftener he reads it..