'He seems charming,' he repeated, then said with a change of tone and with his occasional impulsive brusqueness, 'I wonder--does he ever jar on you in any way?'

'Oh no. Never. He couldn't. He amuses me,' Edith replied softly.

'Oh, does he?... If I had the opportunity I wonder if I should _amuse_ you,' he spoke thoughtfully.

'No; I don't think you would at all,' said Edith, looking him straight in the face.

'That's quite fair,' he laughed, and seemed rather pleased. 'You mean I should bore you to death! Do forgive me, Mrs Ottley. Let's go on with our talk of last night.... I feel it's rather like the Palace of Truth here; I don't know why. There must be something in the atmosphere--I seem to find it difficult not to think aloud--Vincy, now--do you see much of Vincy?'

'Oh yes; he comes here most days, or we talk on the telephone.'

'I see; he's your confidant, and you're his. Dear Vincy. By the way, he asked me last night to go to a tea-party at his flat next week. He was going to ask one or two other kindred spirits--as I think they're called. To see something--some collection. Including you, of course?'

'I shall certainly go,' said Edith, 'whether he asks me or not.'

Aylmer seemed to be trying to leave. He nearly got up once or twice and sat down again.

'Well, I shall see you tonight,' he said. 'At eight.'

'Yes.'

'What shall you wear, Mrs Ottley?'

'Oh, I thought, perhaps, my mauve chiffon? What do you advise?' she smiled.

'Not what you wore last night?'

'Oh no.'

'It was very jolly. I liked it. Er--red, wasn't it?'

'Oh no! It was pink!' she answered.

Then there was an extraordinary pause, in which neither of them seemed able to think of anything to say. There was a curious sort of vibration in the air.

'Isn't it getting quite springy?' said Edith, as she glanced at the window. 'It's one of those sort of warm days that seem to have got mixed up by mistake with the winter.'

'Very,' was his reply, which was not very relevant.

Another pause was beginning.

'Mr Vincy,' announced the servant.

He was received with enthusiasm, and Aylmer Ross now recovered his ease and soon went away.

'Edith!' said Vincy, in a reproving tone. '_Really_! How _very_ soon!'

'He came to know what time we dine. He was just pa.s.sing.'

'Oh, yes. He would want to know. He lives in Jermyn Street. I suppose Knightsbridge is on his way to there.'

'From where?' she asked.

'From here,' said Vincy.

'What happened after we left?' said Edith. 'I saw the Cricker man beginning to dance with hardly anyone looking at him.'

'Isn't his imitation of Nijinsky wonderful?' asked Vincy.

'Simply marvellous! I thought he was imitating George Grossmith. Do you know, I love the Mitch.e.l.ls, Vincy. It's really great fun there. Fancy, Bruce seems so delighted with Aylmer Ross and Miss Mooney that he insisted on their both dining with us tonight.'

'He seemed rather carried away, I thought. There's a fascination about Aylmer. There are so many things he's not,' said Vincy.

'Tell me some of them.'

'Well, for one thing, he's not fatuous, though he's so good-looking.

He's not a lady-killing sort of person or anything else tedious.'

She was delighted at this especially.

'If he took a fancy to a person--well, it might be rather serious, if you take my meaning,' said Vincy.

'How sweet of him! So unusual. Do you like Myra Mooney?'

'Me? Oh, rather; I'm devoted to her. She's a delightful type. Get her on to the subject of the red carnations. She's splendid about them....

She received them every day at breakfast-time for fifteen years.

Another jolly thing about Aylmer is that he has none of that awful old-fashioned modernness, thank goodness!'

'Ah, I noticed that.'

'I suppose he wasn't brilliant today. He was too thrilled. But, do be just a teeny bit careful, Edith dear, because when he is at all he's very much so. Do you see?'

'What a lot you seem to think of one little visit, Vincy! After all, it was only one.'

'There hasn't been time yet for many more, has there, Edith dear? He could hardly call twice the same day, on the first day, too.... Yes, I come over quite queer and you might have knocked me down with a feather, in a manner of speaking, when I clapped eyes on him setting here.'

Edith liked Vincy to talk in his favourite c.o.c.kney strain. It contrasted pleasantly with his soft, even voice and _raffine_ appearance.

'Here's Bruce,' she said.

Bruce came in carrying an enormous basket of gilded straw. It was filled with white heather, violets, lilies, jonquils, gardenias and mimosa. The handle was trimmed with mauve ribbon.

'Oh, Bruce! How angelic of you!'

'Don't be in such a hurry, dear. These are not from me. They arrived just at the same time that I did. Brought by a commissionaire. There was hardly room for it in the lift.'

Edith looked quickly at the card. It bore the name of the minister of the place with a name like Ruritania.

'What cheek!' exclaimed Bruce, who was really flattered. 'What infernal impertinence. Upon my word I've more than half a mind to go and tell him what I think of him--straight from the shoulder. What's the address?'