on, really. You see, he isn't romantic, like you, and he
likes people best who don't run after him."

"Yes, I have often noticed that in people," said Vera thoughtfully.
"I'll tell you _some one_, though, who really interests me; that is
your friend, Arthur Mervyn, the actor. He has such a wonderful profile."

"Yes--in fact, two. Oh, that reminds me, I came to ask you to come to
Madame Tussaud's to-morrow afternoon. We're making up a party to go to
the Chamber of Horrors. I'm taking Sylvia and Bertie. But I can't manage
Arthur Mervyn and Bertie too,--at least, not at the Waxworks,--so I'm
going some other day with him--I mean Arthur."

"Oh, what fun! I should love to come! Thanks, dearest."

"All right. Meet us there at four, and if you ever meet Arthur Mervyn
again, _don't_ talk about the stage. He hates it."

"What does he like?"

"He's interested in murders, and things of that kind," said Felicity;
"or anything cheery, you know, but _not_ the theatre."

"Do you think he would come to see me if I asked him?" asked Vera.

"He hates paying visits," said Felicity, and she glanced round the room
judicially, "but if you can make him believe that some horrible crime
has been acted here,--I must say it doesn't look like it, all pink and
white!--then I think he _would_ call. Or, if you suggested--just
hinted--that you believed the liftman had once been mixed up in some
horrible case--I think he likes poisoning or strangling best--then he'd
come like a shot!"

Felicity got up laughing.

"I say," she continued as she fastened her white furs, "have you heard
the very latest thing about the Valettas and Guy Scott? Bertie's going
to tell me all about it to-night; he is the only _really_ brilliant
gossip I know. He's raised it to such an art that it's no longer gossip:
it's modern history and psychology! First he gets his facts right; then
he takes a sort of vivid analytical interest in every one--always a
humorously sympathetic view, of course--and has so much imagination that
he makes you _see_ the whole thing!"

"Good gracious! I think I don't care for gossip about other people,"
said Vera; "I'm sure I shouldn't like that at all. I am really only
interested in my own life."

"Then no wonder you find it so difficult to be amused, darling."

They parted, kissing affectionately.

CHAPTER XIV

LORD CHETWODE

"I have to go down to Fulham this morning; don't let me forget it," said
Lord Chetwode.

He was