Lady Carbury's house in Welbeck Street was a modest house enough,--with no pretensions to be a mansion, hardly assuming even to be a residence; but, having some money in her hands when she first took it, she had made it pretty and pleasant, and was still proud to feel that in spite of the hardness of her position she had comfortable belongings around her when her literary friends came to see her on her Tuesday evenings. Here she was now living with her son and daughter. The back drawing-room was divided from the front by doors that were permanently closed, and in this she carried on her great work. Here she wrote her books and contrived her system for the inveigling of editors and critics. Here she was rarely disturbed by her daughter, and admitted no visitors except editors and critics. But her son was controlled by no household laws, and would break in upon her privacy without remorse. She had hardly finished two galloping notes after completing her letter to Mr. Ferdinand Alf, when Felix entered the room with a cigar in his mouth and threw himself upon the sofa.
"My dear boy," she said, "pray leave your tobacco below when you come in here."

Lady Carbury's house in Welbeck Street was modest; but she had made it pretty and pleasant, and was proud to feel that she had comfortable belongings around her when her literary friends came to see her on Tuesday evenings. The door to the back drawing-room was permanently closed; it was here that she carried on her great work of writing. Here she was rarely disturbed by her daughter, although her son would break in upon her privacy without remorse.
Soon after she had completed her letter to Mr. Alf, Felix entered the room with a cigar in his mouth and threw himself upon the sofa.
"My dear boy," she said, "pray leave your tobacco behind when you come in here."
