entleman? Biddy says so," Grace Dormer interposed before
this inquiry was answered.

"It's to be supposed that any one Nick brings to lunch with us--!" Lady
Agnes rather coldly sighed.

"Ah Grace, with your tremendous standard!" her son said; while Peter
Sherringham explained to his sister that Mr. Nash was Nick's new Mentor
or oracle--whom, moreover, she should see if she would come and have tea
with him.

"I haven't the least desire to see him," Julia made answer, "any more
than I have to talk about Harsh and bore poor Peter."

"Oh certainly, dear, you'd bore me," her brother rang out.

"One thing at a time then. Let us by all means be convivial. Only you
must show me how," Mrs. Dallow went on to Nick. "What does he mean,
Cousin Agnes? Does he want us to drain the wine-cup, to flash with
repartee?"

"You'll do very well," said Nick. "You're thoroughly charming to-night."

"Do go to Peter's, Julia, if you want something exciting. You'll see a
wonderful girl," Biddy broke in with her smile on Peter.

"Wonderful for what?"

"For thinking she can act when she can't," said the roguish Biddy.

"Dear me, what people you all know! I hate Peter's theatrical people."

"And aren't you going home, Julia?" Lady Agnes inquired.

"Home to the hotel?"

"Dear, no, to Harsh--to see about everything."

"I'm in the midst of telegrams. I don't know yet."

"I suppose there's no doubt they'll have him," Lady Agnes decided to
pursue.

"Who'll have whom?"

"Why, the local people and the party managers. I'm speaking of the
question of my son's standing."

"They'll have the person I want them to have, I daresay. There are so
many people in it, in one way or another--it's dreadful. I like the way
you sit there," Julia went on to Nick.

"So do I," he smiled back at her; and he thought she _was_ charming now,
because she was gay and easy and willing really, though she might plead
incompetence, to understand how jocose a dinner in a pothouse in a
foreign town might be. She was in good humour or was going to be, and
not grand nor stiff nor indifferent nor haughty nor any of the things
people who disliked her usually found her and sometimes even a little
made him believe her. The spirit of mirth in some cold natures manifests
itself not altogether happily, their effort of recreation resembles too
much the bath of the hippopotamus; but when Mrs. Dallow put her elbows
on the table one felt she could be trusted to get them safely