ed Olga, "And that's old enough to know that
nine-tenths of your 'nice human people' are self-seeking vampires
living on the generosity of the other tenth. Besides, you have only to
wait till you come out professionally and you can have as many
so-called friends as you choose. You'll scarcely need to lift your
little finger and they'll come flocking round you. I don't think"--
looking at her speculatively--"that you've any conception what your
voice is going to do for you. You see, it isn't just an ordinary good
voice--it's one of the exceptional voices that are only vouchsafed once
or twice in a century."

"Still, I think I should like to have a few friends--now. _My_ friend,
I mean--not just the friends of my voice!"--with a smile.

"Well, don't include Miss de Gervais in the number--or Max Errington
either."

She watched Diana's sudden flush, and shrugging her shoulders, added
sardonically:--

"I suppose, however, it's useless to try and stop a marble rolling down
hill. . . . Well, later on, remember that I warned you."

Diana stared into the fire for a moment in silence. Then she asked
with apparent irrelevance:--

"Is Mr. Errington married?"

"He is not." Diana's heart suddenly sang within her.

"Nor," continued Miss Lermontof keenly, "is there any likelihood of his
ever marrying."

The song broke off abruptly.

"I should have thought," said Diana slowly, "that he was just the kind
of man who _would_ marry. He is"--with a little effort--"very
delightful."

Miss Lermontof got up to go.

"You have a saying in England: _All is not gold that glitters_. It is
very good sense," she observed.

"Do you mean"--Diana's eyes were suddenly apprehensive--"do you mean
that he has done anything wrong--dishonourable?"

"I think," replied Olga Lermontof incisively, "that it would be very
dishonourable of him if he tried to--to make you care for him."

She moved towards the door as she spoke, and Diana followed her.

"But why--why do you tell me this?" she faltered.

The Russian's queer green eyes held an odd expression as she answered:--

"Perhaps it's because I like you very much better than you do me.
You're one of the few genuine warm-hearted people I've met--and I don't
want you to be unhappy. Good-bye," she added carelessly, "thank you
for my tea."

The door closed behind her, and Diana, returning to her seat by the
fire, sat staring into the flames, puzzling over what she had heard.

Miss