arrival of Savile at this moment created a diversion. His air of
inscrutability and self-restraint was neither more nor less marked than
usual; but, to the acute observer, it would have been evident that he
was crammed with suppressed and exciting information.

"You remember my nephew, Virginia? My brother James's only son, you
know." Aunt William spoke proudly, as if his being an only son were some
remarkable merit of his own.

"Not at all," murmured Savile indistinctly.

"Oh, is he really? What a darling! I adore children," said Lady
Virginia, benevolently smiling at him. "And _so_ tall for his age, too!"

"You don't know his age," snapped Aunt William.

"No, I don't; but I can see he's tall--a very fine child. What do you
learn at school, darling?"

"Oh, nothing much," said Savile, with patience.

Lady Virginia laughed inconsequently.

"What a clever boy he is! Children _are_ so wonderful nowadays! When
Delestin was only six he played all Chopin's Valses and Liszt's
Rhapsodies by heart. Of course that's some time ago now, but it shows
what boys _can_ do."

"By Jove!" said Savile.

"Who's your great friend at school, dear?"

"Oh--I suppose Sweeny's my _greatest_ pal. He's in the eleven," added
Savile explanatorily.

"Oh, yes! I daresay--a very nice boy too. He has a marvellous likeness
to you, Mary dear," Lady Virginia said, using the long-handled glass,
"especially about the--well--the ears--and forehead. Are you musical, my
dear?"

"I like some of it," said Savile, with a sigh.

"You're like James, too," said Lady Virginia, "and I think I see a look
of his mother, Mary."

"You never saw her, and you know it," said Aunt William, who always
tried in vain to pin Virginia down to facts.

"Yes, but that was merely by chance," said Lady Virginia, getting into
her cloak. "Then I shall expect you, Mary, to come and hear Delestin
play? Oh, no, I forgot--you said you couldn't. I'm so sorry; but I
_must_ fly.... I've a thousand things to do. You know my busy life! I'm
the President of the Young Girls' Typewriting Society, and I have to go
and see about it. How we poor women ever get through the season with all
the work we do is more than I can ever understand."

Aunt William became much more cordial at the prospect of her friend's
departure, and when Virginia had at last fluttered out, after dropping
the gold bag and the ivory fan twice, Savile said--

"Do you expect _many_ more visitors like that to-da