. An appreciative listener is always stimulating, and
I described, in a humorous manner, certain incidents of my Convalescent
Home, in a way which, I flatter myself, greatly amused my hostess. John,
of course, good fellow though he is, could hardly be called a brilliant
conversationalist.

At that moment a well remembered voice floated through the open French
window near at hand:

"Then you'll write to the Princess after tea, Alfred? I'll write to Lady
Tadminster for the second day, myself. Or shall we wait until we hear
from the Princess? In case of a refusal, Lady Tadminster might open
it the first day, and Mrs. Crosbie the second. Then there's the
Duchess--about the school fete."

There was the murmur of a man's voice, and then Mrs. Inglethorp's rose
in reply:

"Yes, certainly. After tea will do quite well. You are so thoughtful,
Alfred dear."

The French window swung open a little wider, and a handsome white-haired
old lady, with a somewhat masterful cast of features, stepped out of
it on to the lawn. A man followed her, a suggestion of deference in his
manner.

Mrs. Inglethorp greeted me with effusion.

"Why, if it isn't too delightful to see you again, Mr. Hastings, after
all these years. Alfred, darling, Mr. Hastings--my husband."

I looked with some curiosity at "Alfred darling". He certainly struck a
rather alien note. I did not wonder at John objecting to his beard.
It was one of the longest and blackest I have ever seen. He wore
gold-rimmed pince-nez, and had a curious impassivity of feature. It
struck me that he might look natural on a stage, but was strangely out
of place in real life. His voice was rather deep and unctuous. He placed
a wooden hand in mine and said:

"This is a pleasure, Mr. Hastings." Then, turning to his wife: "Emily
dearest, I think that cushion is a little damp."

She beamed fondly on him, as he substituted another with every
demonstration of the tenderest care. Strange infatuation of an otherwise
sensible woman!

With the presence of Mr. Inglethorp, a sense of constraint and veiled
hostility seemed to settle down upon the company. Miss Howard, in
particular, took no pains to conceal her feelings. Mrs. Inglethorp,
however, seemed to notice nothing unusual. Her volubility, which I
remembered of old, had lost nothing in the intervening years, and she
poured out a steady flood of conversation, mainly on the subject of the
forthcoming bazaar which she was organizing and which