Sir Philip as he sprang in beside his wife,
and called to the coachman "Home!" The magic word seemed to effect the
horses, for they started at a brisk trot, and within a couple of minutes
the carriage was out of sight. It was a warm star-lit evening,--and as
Lorimer and Lovelace re-entered Winsleigh House, Beau stole a
side-glance at his silent companion.

"A plucky fellow!" he mused; "I should say he'd die game. Tortures won't
wring his secret out of him." Aloud he said, "I say, haven't we had
enough of this? Don't let us sup here--nothing but unsubstantial pastry
and claretcup--the latter abominable mixture would kill me. Come on to
the Club, will you?"

Lorimer gladly assented--they got their over-coats from the officious
Briggs, tipped him handsomely, and departed arm in arm. The last glimpse
they caught of the Winsleigh festivities was Marcia Van Clupp sitting on
the stairs, polishing off with much gusto the wing and half-breast of a
capon,--while the mild Lord Masherville stood on the step just above
her, consoling his appetite with a spoonful of tepid yellow jelly. He
had not been able to secure any capon for himself--he had been
frightened away by the warning cry of "Ladies first!" shouted forth by a
fat gentleman, who was on guard at the head of the supper-table, and who
had already secreted five plates of different edibles for his own
consumption, in a neat corner behind the window-curtains. Meanwhile, Sir
Philip Bruce-Errington, proud, happy, and triumphant, drew his wife into
a close embrace as they drove home together, and said, "You were the
queen of the evening, my Thelma! Have you enjoyed yourself?"

"Oh, I do not call that enjoyment!" she declared. "How is it possible to
enjoy anything among so many strangers?"

"Well, what is it?" he asked laughingly.

She laughed also. "I do not know indeed what it is!" she said. "I have
never been to anything like it before. It did seem to me as if all the
people were on show for some reason or other. And the gentlemen did look
very tired--there was nothing for them to do. Even you, my boy! You made
several very big yawns! Did you know that?"

Philip laughed more than ever. "I didn't know it, my pet!" he answered;
"but I'm not surprised. Big yawns are the invariable result of an 'at
home.' Do you like Beau Lovelace?"

"Very much," she answered readily. "But, Philip, I should not like to
have so many friends as Lady Winsleigh. I thought friends were rare?"