n
what I make. And an accompanist doesn't earn a fortune, you know. But
I can't quite forego pretty clothes--I wasn't brought up that way. So
I economise over my room."

Diana was rather touched by the little confidence; somehow she didn't
fancy the other had found it very easy to make, and she liked her all
the better for it.

"No," she agreed, as she poured out two steaming cups of tea. "I
suppose accompanying doesn't pay as well as some other things--the
stage, for example. I should think Adrienne de Gervais makes plenty of
money."

"She has private means, I believe," returned Miss Lermontof. "But, of
course, she gets an enormous salary."

She was drinking her tea appreciatively, and a little colour had crept
into her cheeks, although the shadows still lay heavily beneath her
light-green eyes. They were of a curious translucent green, the more
noticeable against the contrasting darkness of her hair and brows; they
reminded one of the colour of Chinese jade.

"I've just been to tea with Miss de Gervais," volunteered Diana, after
a pause.

A swift look of surprise crossed Olga Lermontof's face.

"I didn't know you had met her," she said slowly.

"Yes, we met at Signor Baroni's the other day. She came in during my
lesson. I believe I told you she had taken a house at Crailing, so
that at home we are neighbours, you see."

"Miss Lermontof consumed a biscuit in silence. Then she said
abruptly:--

"Miss Quentin, I know you don't like me, but--well, I have an odd sort
of wish to do you a good turn. You had better have nothing to do with
Adrienne de Gervais."

Diana stared at her in undisguised amazement, the quick colour rushing
into her face as it always did when she was startled or surprised.

"But--but why?" she stammered.

"I can't tell you why. Only take my advice and leave her alone."

"But I thought her delightful," protested Diana. "And"--wistfully--"I
haven't many friends in London."

"Miss de Gervais isn't quite all she seems. And your art should be
your friend--you don't need any other."

Diana laughed.

"You talk like old Baroni himself! But indeed I do want friends--I
haven't nearly reached the stage when art can take the place of nice
human people."

Miss Lermontof regarded her dispassionately.

"That's only because you're young--horribly young and warm-hearted."

"You talk as if you yourself were a near relation of
Methuselah!"--laughing.

"I'm thirty-five," return