oment," said Mr. Prohack in the
silence of his mind to Eve, and similarly he said to Mr. Softly Bishop:

"I do wish you wouldn't call me 'my dear fellow.' True, I come to your
lunch, but I'm not your dear fellow and I never will be."

"I invited your son also, Prohack," continued Mr. Bishop. "Together with
Miss Winstock or Warburton--she appears to have two names--to make a
pair, to make a pair you understand. But unfortunately he's been
suddenly called out of town on the most urgent business." As he uttered
these last words Mr. Bishop glanced in a peculiar manner partly at his
nose and partly at Mr. Prohack; it was a singular feat of glancing, and
Mr. Prohack uncomfortably wondered what it meant, for Charles lay
continually on Mr. Prohack's chest, and at the slightest provocation
Charles would lie more heavily than usual.

"Am I right in assuming that the necklace affair is satisfactorily
settled?" Mr. Softly Bishop enquired, his spectacles gleaming and
blinking at the adornment of Eve's neck.

"You are," said Eve. "But it wouldn't be advisable for you to be too
curious about details."

Her aplomb, her sangfroid, astounded Mr. Prohack--and relieved him. With
an admirable ease she went on to congratulate their host upon his
engagement, covering him with petals of flattery and good wishes. Mr.
Prohack could scarcely recognise his wife, and he was not sure that he
liked her new worldiness quite as much as her old ingenuous and
sometimes inarticulate simplicity. At any rate she was a changed woman.
He steadied himself, however, by a pertinent reflection: she was always
a changed woman.

Then Sissie and Ozzie appeared, looking as though they had been married
for years. Mr. Prohack's heart began to beat. Ignoring Mr. Softly
Bishop, Sissie embraced her mother with prim affectionateness, and Eve
surveyed her daughter with affectionate solicitude. Mr. Prohack felt
that he would never know what had passed between these two on the
previous day, for they were a pair of sphinxes when they chose, and he
was too proud to encourage confidences from Ozzie. Whatever it might
have been it was now evidently buried deep, and the common life, after a
terrible pause, had resumed.

"How do you do, Miss Prohack," said Mr. Softly Bishop, greeting. "So
glad you could come."

Mr. Prohack suspected that his cheeks were turning pale, and was ashamed
of himself. Even Sissie, for all her young, hard confidence, wavered.

But Eve stepped in