arranging it, but said it can't be done in three
days. Savile forbore to press the matter, and said that he, of course,
disliked going back to school under the present circumstances; but if he
could rely on Chetwode and Teignmouth he would only worry _two_ more
people. The spirit of emulation that Savile hoped to rouse in his
brother-in-law was not observable. But Savile knew him to be a man of
his word, and really felt certain of Teignmouth's influence--he had
Aunt William and Jasmyn Vere up his sleeve. Aunt William was very rich
and very interested in politics, being an ardent member of the Primrose
League; Jasmyn Vere was so frightfully good-natured, and so anxious to
set people at their ease, that if Savile appeared with a shy request (he
smiled to himself as he thought of _his_ being shy of old Jasmyn!) he
would probably grant the request if he could. In fact, having seen in
the _World_ a paragraph speaking of Jasmyn as "one of the leaders of
society, the brilliancy of whose entertainments was only equalled by
their delightful originality" had decided Savile on the question.

"A chap," he said to himself, "who has a room arranged on purpose for
bright conversation at supper, with the subjects on the menu, and spends
thousands on orchids and gardenias for his parties, and admires Mrs.
Wilkinson, and _yet_ is at large, must have some peculiar power! I
should have thought he'd got nothing in him; but he's got such a
tremendous lot _on_ him and around him, I suppose it does instead."

Thus Savile, lost in these thoughts, rang rather judicially at the house
in Park Street that no ordinary house-agent could speak of without
emotion as a noble mansion; others, more genuinely enthusiastic still,
called it, with self-restraint, a commodious residence.

In the little blue-striped room that opened out of her bedroom he found
Felicity in tears and a tea-gown. He remembered that day he had found
Sylvia crying, and congratulated himself; first, that he was not a girl,
secondly, that he and not another man had seen them thus grieving.

Felicity looked up and said, "Oh, Savile, you're just the person I
want--an appalling thing has happened."

Savile sat down, lit a cigarette, and offered one to her, which she
accepted.

Her manner was rather like that of a young man who, though he dislikes
it, has decided to confide in a friend.

"Look here," she said, "I've had a wire from Chetwode to say he's going
to stay on at the Trege