In answer to Miss Farrow's apologies and explanations, everyone, of
course, expressed himself or herself as very willing to fall in with the
suggestion that they should all travel up to town together that day. It
also seemed quite natural to them all, even to Bubbles, that Blanche
should stay behind for the one night.

She was not the sort of woman to leave a task half done. She had engaged
the servants, and she would remain to settle up with them. The average
man--and most of them thought Varick an average man--is helpless in
dealing with so complicated a domestic problem as a number of job
servants.

As the hours of the early afternoon went by, Blanche more and more
marvelled at Varick's extraordinary powers of self-command. Excepting
that he was, perhaps, a little more restless than usual, he was at his
best as the courteous, kindly host, now parting with regret from a
number of well-liked guests.

He even succeeded in putting Helen Brabazon once more at her ease, for,
choosing his opportunity, he told her, in a few earnest words which
touched her deeply, that he had come to see her point of view, and to
acquiesce in her decision.

Blanche heard him making an appointment with Dr. Panton to lunch at the
Ritz on one of the days of the following week. He asked Sir Lyon to join
them there; and Blanche saw the look of real chagrin and annoyance which
passed over his face when Sir Lyon declined the invitation.

But even what was obviously sincere and real, seemed utterly insincere
and unreal to Blanche Farrow, during those tense hours. Thus, when she
overheard Donnington and Bubbles talking over the arrangements for their
wedding, their talk seemed to her all make-believe.

At last, however, there came the moment for which she had been longing
for what seemed to her an eternity.

Miss Brabazon, Sir Lyon, and Dr. Panton were the first to go off;
followed, after a few minutes' interval, Donnington, Bubbles, and the
luggage.

Blanche noticed that Lionel's parting with Bubbles was particularly
suave and cordial. But the girl was not at her best. When her host
touched her, accidentally, she shrank back, and his face clouded. And,
as the motor drove off, he turned to Blanche and said discontentedly: "I
wish Bubbles liked me better, Blanche!"

She hardly knew what to answer, for it was true that the girl did not
like Varick, and had never liked him. Yet it seemed such a strange thing
for him to trouble about that _n