—Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. Laughed at me, then. Together they made their painful way to the door, not even checking, in the effort this cost both, on what Gosse might be doing. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. " "When you heard what was going on, why didn't you send for me?" "I didn't know it was going on.
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