e. It had begun long ago. She had been his wife's
friend and, as such, he had given her that silver vinaigrette as a
memento. It was pretty of him to have given that vinaigrette, and he had
always preferred her to Helen--unlike most men. But the advance had been
astonishing lately. They had done more in a week than in two years, and
were really beginning to know each other.

She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as
soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of
body-building dishes with humility.

Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in
finding a new home.

CHAPTER XVIII

As they were seated at Aunt Juley's breakfast-table at The Bays,
parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a
letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from
Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to
Evie's marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street,
and was willing to let it on a yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike
letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would
not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT
ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with
women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire
would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent.

The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he
liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson's, might this be a
manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage?
She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her
brain would cry, "Rubbish, you're a self-conscious fool!" But her brain
only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at
the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to
the others.

As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her.
There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the
burr of conversation her fears vanished.

"You needn't go though--" began her hostess.

"I needn't, but hadn't I better? It's really getting rather serious. We
let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled
out bag and baggage into the street. We don't know what we WANT, that's
the mischief with us--"

"No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helpi