Carroll had also risen. Orde held out his hand.

"I must be going," said he.

"Well," she conceded, "I suppose I'd better see if I can't help
mother out. But you'll come in again. Come and dine with us this
evening. Mother will be delighted."

As Mrs. Bishop had departed from the room, Orde had to take for
granted the expression of this delight. He bowed to the other
occupants of the table. The general was eating nervously. Gerald's
eyes were fixed amusedly on Orde.

To Orde's surprise, he was almost immediately joined on the street
by young Mr. Bishop, most correctly appointed.

"Going anywhere in particular?" he inquired. "Let's go up the
avenue, then. Everybody will be out."

They turned up the great promenade, a tour of which was then, even
more than now, considered obligatory on the gracefully idle.
Neither said anything--Orde because he was too absorbed in the
emotions this sudden revelation of Carroll's environment had aroused
in him; Gerald, apparently, because he was too indifferent.
Nevertheless it was the young exquisite who finally broke the
silence.

"It was an altar cloth," said he suddenly.

"What?" asked Orde, rather bewildered.