o get a rest before you go to the Hardings," he said. Then he
added, in a voice that threw out the words merely as a remark which
demanded no answer, "Was it physical--or--moral or both? Umph!" he went
on. "Now, we have only a step to make. It's the third doorway!"

CHAPTER XVII

A TEA PARTY

Mrs. Harding had not succeeded in finding some chance of "casually"
asking Mrs. Potten to have tea with her, but she had secured the
Dashwoods. That was something. Mrs. Harding's drawing-room was spacious
and looked out on the turreted walls of Christ Church. The house
witnessed to Mrs. Harding's private means.

"We have got Lady Dashwood in the further room," she murmured to some
ladies who arrived punctually from the Sale in St. Aldates, "and we
nearly got the Warden of Kings."

The naivete of Mrs. Harding's remark was quite unconscious, and was due
to that absence of humour which is the very foundation stone of
snobbishness.

"But the Warden is coming to fetch his party home," added Mrs. Harding,
cheerfully.

Harding, too, was in good spirits. He was all patriotism and full of
courteous consideration for his friends. So heartened was he that, after
tea, at the suggestion of Bingham, he sat down to the piano to sing a
duet with his wife. This was also a sort of touching example of British
respectability with a dash of "go" in it!

Bingham was turning over some music.

"What shall it be, Tina?" asked Harding, whose repertoire was limited.

"This!" said Bingham, and he placed on the piano in front of Hording the
duet from "Becket."

The room was crowded, khaki prevailing. "All the women are workers,"
Mrs. Harding had explained.

Gwendolen Scott was there, of course, still conscious of the
ten-shilling note in the pocket of her coat. Mrs. Potten had gone, along
with the Buckinghamshire collar, just as if neither had ever existed.
Boreham was there, talking to one or two men in khaki, because he could
not get near May Dashwood. She had now somehow got wedged into a corner
over which Bingham was standing guard.

At the door the Warden had just made his appearance. He had got no
further than the threshold, for he saw his hostess about to sing and
would not advance to disturb her.

From where he stood May Dashwood could be plainly seen, and Bingham
stooping with his hands on his knees, making an inaudible remark to her.

The remark that gentleman was actually making was: "You'll have a treat
presently--the gr