of place, and crammed the two heads into a
brown cream-jug, the which she deposited on a sunny window-ledge.
Claire saw them as she next left the house and shrugged resignedly, for
she was beginning to learn the lesson which many of us take a lifetime
to master, the wisdom of allowing people to enjoy themselves in their
own fashion!

The Willoughbys were leaving town in mid July, _en route_ for
Switzerland, and later on for a Scottish shooting-box. Claire received
an invitation to tea on their last Saturday afternoon, and arrived to
find the drawing-room full of visitors.

Malcolm Heward was assisting Janet at the tea-table, but with this
exception she recognised no one in the room, and was thankful for the
attentions of Master Reginald, who hailed her as an old acquaintance,
and reproached her loudly for not turning up at "Lord's."

"I looked out for you, you know!" he said impressively, and Claire was
the more gratified by his remembrance because Malcolm Heward had
required a second introduction to awaken his recollection. It is no
doubt gratifying to the object of his devotion when a man remains blind
to every other member of her sex, but the other members may feel a
natural objection to be so ignored! Claire was annoyed by the necessity
of that second introduction, and as a consequence made herself so
fascinating to the boy who _had_ remembered, that he hugged the sweet
delusion that she considered him a man, and was seriously smitten by his
charms. He waited upon her with assiduity, gave her exclusive tips as
to her choice of cakes, and recited the latest funny stories which were
already stale in his own circles, but which came to her ears with
agreeable freshness.

It was while the two were laughing together over an unexpected
_denouement_ that the departure of two guests left a space across which
Claire could see a far corner of the room, and perceived that a lady
seated on a sofa had raised a tortoiseshell-bound _lorgnon_, to stare
across at herself. She was an elderly lady, and at first sight her
appearance awoke no recollection. She was just a grey-haired woman,
attired in handsome black, in no way differentiated from one or two
other visitors of the same age: even when the _lorgnon_ dropped to her
side, disclosing a pair of very bright, very quizzical grey eyes, it was
a full moment before Claire realised that this was her acquaintance of
that first eventful journey to London, none other than Mrs Fa