or gave you." She stopped stitching on the little
collar, and looked at him earnestly. "Somehow, I _am_ so afraid of your
taking that medicine, Cecil."

"Rubbish!" he said curtly.

"You can't think how it affects you----"

"How that fever affects me, you mean, don't you?"

Sophy did not like to say too much. He was frowning, and he had been so
amiable for several days. She began to sew again, saying only:

"Of course, I don't really know. Only--it worries me."

Chesney got up.

"I think I'll go out for a bit," he said. "Just a turn in the Park. It's
beastly stuffy indoors."

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"You forget--don't you? You told me Olive Arundel was coming for tea."

"Oh, so I did. Well then--but don't overtire yourself."

He scowled frankly this time.

"Confound it, Sophy--I told you I felt quite fit." He reached the door,
then turned. "Mind you hold on to the next invitation that seems
promising. I need bucking up a bit. Mixing with my fellows, confound
'em! It will give me something to vent my spleen on, if nothing else. So
long."

As it happened, Mrs. Arundel came with an invitation. It was for a
dinner at the House of Commons. She had coaxed her Jack to give this
dinner. Varesca had never been to a dinner at the House of Commons.

"You _must_ come, Sophy," she said urgently. "It's going to be
_bwilliant_." (Whenever Olive grew very intense she missed her "r's" and
this suited her Greuze type charmingly.)

Sophy needed no urging. It seemed to her that this was the very thing
for which Cecil had been wishing. She accepted for them both.

Olive leaned over and kissed her.

"Oh, I _am_ so pleased. And that duck of an Amaldi will be in the
seventh heaven."

Sophy could not help smiling at the idea of the quiet, reserved Amaldi
being called a "duck."

"Why do you smile, Sophy? Don't you like him? Varesca says he is madly
in love with you."

Sophy was annoyed to feel herself blushing, for this blush came wholly
from vexation and she knew that Olive would interpret it otherwise.

"It's very stupid of Count Varesca to say such things," she said a
little haughtily.

"Oh, _no_, darling!--Attilio may be impulsive--but he _isn't_ stupid."

Sophy's grey eyes grew long with laughter. Olive, puzzled, demanded to
know what she _could_ be laughing at.

"I think Attilio is such a funny name, Olive. Do you really call him
Attilio?"

"Of course I do. But I don't think it is a _funny_ na