ble. Behind her stoutness and her comfort there beat a heart of
gold, and an extremely acute brain, which was not always allowed for,
was alert and watchful. A heart of gold is considered as not
incompatible with comfort and stoutness, but nobody who had not come to
grips with her, or been her ally in some affair that called for
diplomacy or tact, knew how excessively efficient her brain was. She
had, too, the supreme gift of only sending into action as much of it as
was required to do the work, and never made elaborate plans when
something simple would do as well.

All this combined to make not only a character that was lovable, but a
friend whose wisdom might be depended on, and Daisy was eminently right
in valuing her aunt's counsel and advice. She sought it, indeed, this
evening, in the quiet half-hour that intervened between the departure of
the tea-party guests and the time when it was necessary to dress for
dinner.

Lady Nottingham was resting in her room when Daisy went to her,
ostensibly (and quite truly) to get the list of those who were coming to
dinner that night in order to arrange the table. But though she would
have gone there in any case for that reason, another and far more
essential one lay behind it. She wanted, indeed, to get her aunt's
opinion on the point she had herself talked to Gladys about that
afternoon, and sound her as to her opinion about Lord Lindfield.

The sorting of people to see who would take whom in to dinner, with
abstracted frownings over the map of the table, seemed to Daisy an
admirable accompaniment for disjointed questions, and one which would
give her an adventitious advantage, since at any moment she could be
absorbed in the task she was so kindly occupying herself with, and be
silent over it, if a reply was in any way inconvenient.

This sort of diplomacy, though not exactly habitual with Daisy, seemed
to her sufficiently acute and blinding, and she sat on the floor with a
peerage, the list of the guests, a sheet of paper and a pencil, and
began at once, while Lady Nottingham "rested" on the sofa against which
Daisy leant her back.

"Oh, what nice people!" said Daisy. "Can't they all take me in? Willie
Carton, Jimmie, Lord Lindfield, Mr. Braithwaite, and Lord Pately. Dear
Willie! I suppose he ought to take me in. Do you mind whether you sit at
the end of the table or in the middle of the middle, Aunt Alice? Middle
of the middle always works out more easily. All right. D