“Quite out of the question,” said Adolphus.

“I don’t think I should advise any such step as that,” said Gazebee.

“Perhaps not; very likely not.  But you cannot be surprised, Mortimer, that my mother under such circumstances should wish to know what are the facts of the case.”

“Not at all surprised,” said Gazebee.

“Then once for all, I’ll tell you the facts.  As I got out of the train a man I’d seen once before in my life made an attack upon me, and before the police came up, I got a blow in the face.  Now you know all about it.”

At that moment dinner was announced.  “Will you give Lady Amelia your arm?” said the husband.

“It’s a very sad occurrence,” said Lady Amelia with a slight toss of her head, “and, I’m afraid, will cost my sister a great deal of vexation.”

“You agree with de Courcy, do you, that Aunt Dina won’t like me with an ugly black eye?”

“I really don’t think it’s a joking matter,” said the Lady Amelia.  And then there was nothing more said about it during the dinner.

There was nothing more said about it during the dinner, but it was plain enough from Lady Amelia’s countenance that she was not very well pleased with her future brother-in-law’s conduct.  She was very hospitable to him, pressing him to eat; but even in doing that she made repeated little references to his present unfortunate state.  She told him that she did not think fried plum-pudding would be bad for him, but that she would recommend him not to drink port wine after dinner.  “By-the-by, Mortimer, you’d better have some claret up,” she remarked.  “Adolphus shouldn’t take anything that is heating.”

“Thank you,” said Crosbie.  “I’ll have some brandy-and-water, if Gazebee will give it me.”

“Brandy-and-water!” said Lady Amelia.  Crosbie in truth was not given to the drinking of brandy-and-water; but he was prepared to call for raw gin, if he were driven much further by Lady Amelia’s solicitude.

At these Sunday dinners the mistress of the house never went away into the drawing-room, and the tea was always brought into them at the table on which they had dined.  It was another little step towards keeping holy the first day of the week.  When Lady Rosina was there, she was indulged with the sight of six or seven solid good books which were laid upon the mahogany as soon as the bottles were taken off it.  At her first prolonged visit she had obtained for herself the privilege of reading a sermon; but as on such occasions both Lady Amelia and Mr Gazebee would go to sleep,—­and as the footman had also once shown a tendency that way,—­the sermon had been abandoned.  But the master of the house, on these evenings, when his sister-in-law was present, was doomed to sit in idleness, or else to find solace in one of the solid good books.  But Lady Rosina just now was in the country, and therefore the table was left unfurnished.

“And what am I to say to my mother?” said Lady Amelia, when they were alone.