those
American azaleas you promised to show me?"

Challoner made her an apologetic bow. "Have I been remiss? I saw you
with Greythorpe, and understood you found him interesting."

"I've nothing against the man, and he never bores one, but he's a
friend of yesterday by comparison; it's only six years since I first
met him."

"Ah!" said Challoner; "the old ties are strongest."

Mrs. Keith insisted on examining the azaleas, though they were dry and
leafless, and Mrs. Chudleigh, seeing no further opportunity of a quiet
talk with Challoner, left them. When she had gone, Mrs. Keith looked
at her companion with a twinkle.

"Well," she said, "what do you think of Mrs. Chudleigh?"

"You'll allow me to say that I find her charming? It's a comprehensive
word."

"And means anything or nothing. But I understand. You're often only
conventional when you think yourself gallant."

"It's possible, but what would you have me say? She's attractive, a
pleasant talker, and I think intelligent."

"Highly intelligent," Mrs. Keith remarked pointedly "Do you think she's
to be trusted?"

"It doesn't enter into the question. I don't see that either of us is
required to trust her."

"I'm inclined to think that's fortunate," Mrs. Keith rejoined.

For the next half hour she kept Challoner at her side and then left him
with Mrs. Foster. It was hard to resist Margaret Keith when she had
made up her mind, and Challoner had no wish to do so. Moreover he was
glad to talk to Mrs. Foster, whom he liked, but he had other guests to
whom he owed some attention and he felt as if he were being gently but
firmly kept away from them. Mrs. Chudleigh and Millicent, however,
seemed to be content with Greythorpe's society, and finding it
difficult to leave Mrs. Foster he acquiesced.

Presently she suggested that he should show her friends his pictures,
but he said that as it was near sunset and the gallery was badly
lighted it would be better if she brought her party back in a day or
two. Having promised to do so she summoned the others, and they were
driven home.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PICTURE GALLERY

Mrs. Foster brought her guests back to Sandymere, and when Challoner
had shown them the best bits of the old carved oak with which the house
was decorated and some curious works of art he had picked up in India,
he took them to the picture gallery which ran round the big square
hall. A lantern dome admitted a cold light, but a few