in his letter--I've got
it with me somewhere. Oh, yes, here it is! He says: '_What news have
you of Nan? I've lost sight of her since her engagement. But now it
seems likely I shall be seeing her again before any of you_.' I can't
think what he means by that."

"Nor I," said Nan, somewhat mystified. "But anyway," she added,
smiling, "he will be seeing me even sooner than he anticipates. How
has his marriage turned out?"

Penelope laughed.

"Very much as one might have expected. They live most amicably--apart!"

"They've surely not quarrelled already?"

"Oh, no, they've not quarrelled. But of course they didn't fit into
each other's scheme of life one bit, and they've re-arranged matters to
suit their own convenience. She's in the south of France just now, and
when she comes to town they'll meet quite happily and visit at each
other's houses. She has a palatial sort of place in Mayfair, you know,
while Maryon has a duck of a house in Westminster."

"How very modern!" commented Nan, smiling. "And--how like Maryon!"

"Just like him, isn't it? And"--drily--"it was just like him, too, to
see that the marriage settlement arrangements were all quite
water-tight. However, on the whole, it's a fair bargain between them.
She rejoices in the honour and glory of being a well-known artist's
wife, while he has rather more money than is good for him."

Ralph, broadened out a bit since his successful trip to America, was on
the steps of the Mansions to welcome them, and the lift conveyed them
all three up to the flat--the dear, home-like flat of which Nan felt
she loved every inch.

"You're in your old room," Penelope told her, and Nan gave vent to a
crow of delight.

Dinner was a delightful meal, full of the familiar gossip of the
artistes' room, and the news of old friends, and fervent discussions on
matters musical and artistic, with running through it all a ripple of
humour and the cheery atmosphere of camaraderie and good-fellowship.
When it was over, the three drew cosily together round the fire in
Ralph's den. Nan sank into her chair with a blissful sigh.

"That's not a sigh of repletion, Penny," she explained. "Though really
your cook might have earned it? . . . But oh! _isn't_ this nice?"
Inwardly she was reflecting that at just about this time Roger,
together with Lady Gertrude and Isobel, would be returning from
Great-aunt Rachel's funeral, only to learn of her own flight from
Trenby Hall.

"Ye