She gave her name and asked
whether Lady Sellingworth had returned to London. The answer was that
her ladyship had arrived in London from the Continent on Saturday
evening.

"Please tell her ladyship that her friend, Miss Van Tuyn, will call on
her this afternoon about five o'clock," said Miss Van Tuyn.

Soon afterwards she put on her hat and fur coat and set off on her way
to Chelsea.

A little before five she turned into Berkeley Square on foot, coming
from Carlos Place.

She felt both curious and slightly hostile. She wondered very much why
Adela had gone away so mysteriously; she wondered where Adela had been
and whether she had returned changed. When Miss Van Tuyn had alluded to
the sheaves the thought in her mind had been markedly feminine. It had
occurred to her that Adela might have stolen away to have "things" done
to her; that she might come back to London mysteriously rejuvenated.
Such a thing was possible even at sixty. Miss Van Tuyn had known of
waning beauties who had vanished, and who had returned to the world
looking alarmingly young. Certainly she had never known of a woman as
old in appearance as Adela becoming transformed. Nevertheless in modern
days, when the culture of beauty counts in its service such marvellous
experts, almost all things are possible. If Adela had gone quite mad
about Alick Craven the golden age might be found suddenly domiciled
in Number 18A. Then Adela's intention would be plain. She would have
returned from abroad armed _cap-a-pie_ for conquest.

The knowledge that Adela was in London had revived in Miss Van Tuyn the
creeping hostility which she had felt before her friend's departure. She
remembered her lonely walk to Soho, what she had seen through the lit-up
window of the _Bella Napoli_. The sensation of ill treatment returned to
her. She would have scorned to acknowledge even to herself that she was
afraid of Adela, that she dreaded Adela's influence on a man. But when
she thought of Craven she was conscious of a strange fluttering of
anxiety. She wanted to keep Craven as a friend. She wanted him to be her
special friend. This he had been, but only since Lady Sellingworth had
been out of London. Now she had come back. Over there shone the light
above the door of the house in which she was at this moment. How would
it be now?

A hard, resolute look came into Miss Van Tuyn's face as she walked past
the block of flats at the top of the square. She had a definite and
st