"I hope, for his
sake, he's not calling Barbara 'old girl.'"

"He calls everybody funny names," Susan chimed in. "See what a lot he
called me."

"Does your Royal Fairy Highness approve of him?" asked Jaffery.

"I should think so, Uncle Jaff," she replied fervently. "He's--he's
_marvelious_!"

"He is," said Jaffery, "and even that jewel of language doesn't express
him."

"My dear," said I, "you stick close to him all day, as long as mummy
will let you."

I have never got the credit I deserved for the serene wisdom of that
suggestion. All through lunch, all through the long afternoon until it
was Susan's bedtime, her obedience to my command saved over and over
again a tense situation. To the guest in her house Barbara was the
perfection of courtesy. But beneath the mask of convention raged fury
with Liosha. A woman can seldom take a queer social animal for what he
is and suck the honey from his flowers of unconventionality. She had
never heard a man say "Right oh!" to a butler when offered a second
helping of pudding. She had never dreamed of the possibility of a
strange table-neighbour laying his hand on hers and requesting her to
"take it from me, my dear." It sent awful shivers down her spine to hear
my august self alluded to as her "old man." She looked down her nose
when, to the apoplectic joy of Susan (supposed to be on her primmest
behaviour at meals), he, with a significant wink, threw a new potato
into the air, caught it on his fork and conveyed it to his mouth. Her
smile was that of the polite hostess and not of the enthusiastic
listener when he told her of triumphs in Manchester and Cincinnati. To
her confusion, he presupposed her intimate acquaintance with the
personalities of the World of Variety.

"That's where I came across little Evie Bostock," he said
confidentially. "A clipper, wasn't she? Just before she ran off with
that contortionist--you know who I mean--handsome chap--what's his
name?--oh, of course you know him."

My poor Barbara! Daughter of a distinguished Civil servant, a K.C.B.,
assumed to be on friendly terms with a Boneless Wonder!

"But indeed I don't, Mr. Fendihook," she replied pathetically.

"Yes, yes, you must." He snapped his fingers. "Got it. Romeo! You must
have heard of Romeo."

I sniggered--I couldn't help it--at Barbara's face. He went on with his
reminiscences. Barbara nearly wept, whilst I, though displeased with
Liosha for introducing such an incongruous element