short time.

("Bullies the life out of every one, I've always heard," was Eric's
private comment, as he was introduced to a pair of tow-haired young
officers with limp hands; "except the girl. And she bullies him.")

"I knew you by sight at Oxford," said Lord Neave, withdrawing his limp
hand jerkily, as though he feared that it would be stolen. "You were at
Trinity, weren't you? You, er, know my brother Charles--Mr. Lane."

Eric grasped a second limp hand, received a quick, business-like nod
from John Gaymer and found himself confronted by the Duchess of Ross.

"No one will introduce us!" she cried shrilly with a vermillion pout.
"I've _so_ much wanted to meet you, Mr. Lane. You _wouldn't_ dine when I
asked you! Won't _some one_ introduce us _properly_!"

The babble of high-toned voices, the quick patter of speech, the sense
of hurry, the hyperbolical intimacy and enthusiasm were bewildering to a
man who was naturally shy and at that moment mentally tired. Eric
commended his soul to his humour and circumambulated the room, two steps
at a time, until a sudden lessening of noise and tension told him that
luncheon had dawned upon Lady Crawleigh as a thing to be not only
discussed but eaten.

"We've heard so _much_ about you from Babs," she said, struggling to
finish one of her interrupted sentences. "_So_ good of you to bring her
home the other night."

Eric poised himself on mental tip-toes, wondering, in general, how far
Barbara made her family a party to her life and, in particular, to which
night Lady Crawleigh was alluding.

"Really----," he began.

"She gets these turns," Lady Crawleigh pursued. "I blame myself
entirely; I allowed her to stay on working at the hospital when she
simply wasn't fit for it. Now _she_ has to pay for _my_ weakness."

Eric looked from one to the other.

"I should prescribe three months in the country, bed at ten--and make
her stay there for twelve hours."

"I should be out of my mind in a week," Barbara protested.

There was a pause, and Lady Crawleigh, with a rueful shrug, turned away
to speak to Gaymer.

"I _like_ the way you order me _into_ bed and _out_ of bed!" Barbara
whispered. "If you cared what happened to me, it would be one thing,
but, when I'm becoming a bit of a nuisance, you know. . . ."

Eric looked round cautiously and lowered his voice.

"Lady Barbara," he began.

"You persist in that?"

"Babs, then----"

"Yes, but you're receiving a favour, not conf