“Don’t tell me that Burnamy is here!”

“Don’t jump to conclusions!  No, Burnamy isn’t here, poor fellow!  And don’t suppose that I’m guilty of concealment because I haven’t told you before.  I was just thinking whether I wouldn’t spare you till morning, but now I shall let you take the brunt of it.  Mrs. Adding and Rose are here.”  She gave the fact time to sink in, and then she added, “And Miss Triscoe and her father are here.”

“What is the matter with Major Eltwin and his wife being here, too?  Are they in our hotel?”

“No, they are not.  They came to look for rooms while you were off waiting for the Prince-Regent, and I saw them.  They intended to go to Frankfort for the manoeuvres, but they heard that there was not even standing-room there, and so the general telegraphed to the Spanischer Hof, and they all came here.  As it is, he will have to room with Rose, and Agatha and Mrs. Adding will room together.  I didn’t think Agatha was looking very well; she looked unhappy; I don’t believe she’s heard, from Burnamy yet; I hadn’t a chance to ask her.  And there’s something else that I’m afraid will fairly make you sick.”

“Oh, no; go on.  I don’t think anything can do that, after an afternoon of Kenby’s confidences.”

“It’s worse than Kenby,” she said with a sigh.  “You know I told you at Carlsbad I thought that ridiculous old thing was making up to Mrs. Adding.”

“Kenby?  Why of co—­”

“Don’t be stupid, my dear!  No, not Kenby:  General Triscoe.  I wish you could have been here to see him paying her all sort; of silly attentions, and hear him making her compliments.”

“Thank you.  I think I’m just as well without it.  Did she pay him silly attentions and compliments, too?”

“That’s the only thing that can make me forgive her for his wanting her.  She was keeping him at arm’s-length the whole time, and she was doing it so as not to make him contemptible before his daughter.”

“It must have been hard.  And Rose?”

“Rose didn’t seem very well.  He looks thin and pale; but he’s sweeter than ever.  She’s certainly commoner clay than Rose.  No, I won’t say that!  It’s really nothing but General Triscoe’s being an old goose about her that makes her seem so, and it isn’t fair.”

March went down to his coffee in the morning with the delicate duty of telling Kenby that Mrs. Adding was in town.  Kenby seemed to think it quite natural she should wish to see the manoeuvres, and not at all strange that she should come to them with General Triscoe and his daughter.  He asked if March would not go with him to call upon her after breakfast, and as this was in the line of his own instructions from Mrs. March, he went.