"Don't you remember that when you first kindly asked me I had arranged to take my mother abroad, and the next time I was going to Scotland with a friend ?" "Oh yes, and the third time you were moving into your new diggings in Cheyne Walk." Cedric spoke with a touch of impatience.
"But we have often met at Oxford," observed Malcolm smilingly.

And then he coloured slightly and continued in an embarrassed voice, "I am afraid, my dear fellow, that you have rather wondered that you have not been invited to No.

27 Queen's Gate; but, as I once explained to you, the house belongs to my mother." "Just as the Wood House belongs to Dinah and Elizabeth," returned Cedric.
"Ah, just so; but there is a difference.

My mother is not quite like other ladies.

Her life, and I may say the greater part of her fortune, are devoted to charitable objects.