Joyselle should see her with his own eyes, as a man sees a
woman, not as a father sees a daughter. And he should see her as a man
sees a marvellously beautiful woman!

Satisfied with the conclusion to which she had come, she lay down and
slept for an hour, after which, the enigmatic smile on her lips bringing
into predominance the resemblance to the portrait in the Luxembourg, she
dressed, with more care than she had ever devoted to that process in all
her five-and-twenty years of life.

When she arrived at Charles Street and had shaken hands with the
Duchess, who had had influenza and looked very old, the first person she
saw was Gerald Carron.

"Will you speak to me, Brigit?" he said diffidently, "please do."

He, too, looked ill, and moistened his lips nervously as he spoke. She
shook hands with him without answering, and he hurried on, "Haven't I
been good? I knew where you were, and--I might easily have come----"

"You would not have had a flattering reception," she suggested drily.

"Or written. And I did neither. I was glad you went, though God knows----"

"How do you do, Mrs. Talboys," she cut him short ruthlessly, "when are
we to have another book?"

It was a very large dinner, and Brigit, placed between two men who dined
out for reasons dietetic and economic, and did not talk, was free to
pursue her own thoughts at leisure. She had wired Theo before leaving
the de Lenskys', that she was leaving for home, and before starting for
the dinner she had sent another wire, addressed simply "Joyselle," to
say that she was dining out, but would come to Golden Square after
dinner.

She knew that Joyselle, recognising her prompt appearance as an answer
to his letter, would be at home late in the evening, no matter where he
might have dined. "He has such strong family feelings," she reflected,
with a menacing curve of her upper lip.

So deeply was she buried in her thoughts that she was amazed to find
suddenly that the Duchess was trying to gather her flock's eye,
preparatory to herding it upstairs. Both her hungry neighbours made
spasmodic attempts to eradicate from her mind the memory of their
fanatical devotion to the rites of the table, and she smiled absently at
them, wondering what they would have thought if she had politely thanked
them for their silence!

"My dear," said the Duchess, a few minutes later, sitting down in her
favourite corner by the fire, "come and tell me about Pam."

"She is well, Duc