But Mr. Smith had managed to remove himself a pace or two from their company, under cover of a sudden interest in a torn and flapping Western Gazette , which he proceeded to push into a trampled molehill with the end of his stick.

Mrs. Solent glanced at her son shrewdly and scrutinizingly. “You look as if you were enjoying yourself, I must say! What’s come over you? Are you wishing yourself back in London? Well, come on, Albert Smith! I’m longing for a cup of tea. These people have had theirs.”

She was already carrying off her companion, after a nod to Miss Gault, which was received without a sign of response, when Wolf stopped her. “Where shall we meet, Mother, when you’re ready to go?”

“Oh, anywhere, child! We can’t lose ourselves here.”