ack to the room.

Bruce had now at last left his companion, but still Aylmer Ross did not
go and speak to her, though he was sitting alone.

Musical chairs began in the studio. Someone was playing 'Baby,
look-a-here,' stopping suddenly in the middle to shouts of laughter and
shrieks from the romping players. In the drawing-room some of the
people were playing bridge. How dull the rest of the evening was! Just
before the party practically broke up, Edith had an opportunity of
saying as she passed Aylmer:

'I thought we were going to have a talk instead of playing games?'

'I saw you were occupied,' he answered ceremoniously. 'I didn't
like--to interrupt.'

She laughed. 'Is this a jealous scene, Mr Ross?'

'I wonder,' he said, smiling, 'and if so, whose. Well, I hope to see
you again soon.'

'_What_ a success your charming wife has had tonight,' said Mrs
Mitchell to Bruce, as they took leave. 'Everyone is quite wild about
her. How pretty she is! You _must_ be proud of her.'

They were nearly the last. Mr Cricker, who had firmly refused the whole
evening, in spite of abject entreaties, to dance like Nijinsky,
suddenly relented when everyone had forgotten all about it, and was
leaping alone in the studio, while Lord Rye, always a great lingerer,
was playing Richard Strauss to himself on the baby Grand, and smoking a
huge cigar.

'Edith,' said Bruce solemnly, as they drove away, 'I've made a friend
tonight. There was one really charming man there--he took an immense
fancy to me.'

'Oh--who was that?'

'Who was that?' he mimicked her, but quite good-naturedly. 'How stupid
women are in some things! Why, Aylmer Ross, the chap who sat next to
you at dinner! I suppose you didn't appreciate him. Very clever, very
interesting. He was anxious to know several things which I was glad to
be in a position to tell him. Yes--an awfully good sort. I asked him to
dine at my club one day, to go on with our conversation.'

'Oh, did you?'

'Yes. Why shouldn't I? However, it seems from what he said that he
thinks the Carlton's nicer for a talk, so I'm going to ask him there
instead. You can come too, dear. He won't mind; it won't prevent our
talking.'

'Oh, are we going to give a dinner at the Carlton?'

'I wish you wouldn't oppose me, Edith. Once in a way! Of course I
shall. Our flat's too small to give a decent dinner. He's one of the
nicest chaps I've ever met.'

'Well, do you want me to write tomorrow morning then, dea