y the 3.30. She hoped I would bring my bicycle with me.
She hoped I wouldn't find it very dull. She hoped I wouldn't forget to
come. She said how lovely it must be to spend one's life among clever
people. She supposed I knew everybody here to-night. She asked me to
tell her who everybody was. She asked who was the tall, dark man, over
there. I told her it was Stephen Braxton. She said they had promised to
introduce her to him. She added that he looked rather wonderful. "Oh, he
is, very," I assured her. She turned to me with a sudden appeal: "DO you
think, if I took my courage in both hands and asked him, he'd care to
come to Keeb?"

'I hesitated. It would be easy to say that Satan answered FOR me; easy
but untrue; it was I that babbled: "Well--as a matter of fact--since you
ask me--if I were you--really I think you'd better not. He's very odd in
some ways. He has an extraordinary hatred of sleeping out of London. He
has the real Gloucestershire LOVE of London. At the same time, he's very
shy; and if you asked him he wouldn't very well know how to refuse. I
think it would be KINDER not to ask him."

'At that moment, Mrs. Wilpham--the President--loomed up to us, bringing
Braxton. He bore himself well. Rough dignity with a touch of mellowness.
I daresay you never saw him smile. He smiled gravely down at the
Duchess, while she talked in her pretty little quick humble way. He made
a great impression.

'What I had done was not merely base: it was very dangerous. I was in
terror that she might rally him on his devotion to London. I didn't dare
to move away. I was immensely relieved when at length she said she must
be going.

'Braxton seemed loth to relax his grip on her hand at parting. I feared
she wouldn't escape without uttering that invitation. But all was
well.... In saying good night to me, she added in a murmur, "Don't
forget Keeb--Saturday week--the 3.30." Merely an exquisite murmur.
But Braxton heard it. I knew, by the diabolical look he gave me, that
Braxton had heard it.... If he hadn't, I shouldn't be here.

'Was I a prey to remorse? Well, in the days between that Soiree and that
Saturday, remorse often claimed me, but rapture wouldn't give me up.
Arcady, Olympus, the right people, at last! I hadn't realised how good
my book was--not till it got me this guerdon; not till I got it this
huge advertisement. I foresaw how pleased my publisher would be. In some
great houses, I knew, it was possible to stay without