"I beg pardon, Sir," replied Jack, with the accent and manner of the janizary; "I was betrayed into the exclamation by my surprise that anything in which Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have reference to so humble a person as Mrs. After all, that was life. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him.
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