s, it were among artists and Bohemians; and even then it would be
their great object to prove to one another that they were not wanting
in distractions and were very much in demand; the lady, especially,
would make the man wait for an opportunity of seeing her again, from
calculation, to make herself seem of more value. Such second-rate
solicitudes would never even occur to Edith. But she had a scruple
about throwing over old Mrs Ottley.

* * * * *

'Won't your mother be disappointed?' Edith asked.

'My dear Edith, you can safely leave that to me. Of course she'll be
disappointed, but you can go round and see her, and speak to her nicely
and tell her that after all we can't come because we've got another
engagement.'

'And am I to tell her it's a subsequent one? Otherwise she'll wonder we
didn't mention it before.'

'Don't be in a hurry, dear. Don't rush things; remember... she's my
mother. Perhaps to you, Edith, it seems a rather old-fashioned idea,
and I daresay you think it's rot, but to me there's something very
sacred about the idea of a mother.' He lit a cigarette and looked in
the glass.

'Yes, dear. Then, don't you think we really ought to have kept our
promise to dine with her? She'll probably be looking forward to it. I
daresay she's asked one or two people she thinks we like, to meet us.'

'Circumstances alter cases, Edith. If it comes to that, Aylmer Ross has
got two or three people coming to dine with him whom he thinks we might
like. He said so himself. That's why he's asked us.'

'Yes, but he can't have asked them on purpose, Bruce, because, you see,
we didn't know him on Thursday.'

'Well, why should he have asked them on purpose? _How_ you argue! _How_
you go on! It really seems to me you're getting absurdly exacting and
touchy, Edith dear. I believe all those flowers from the embassy have
positively turned your head. _Why_ should he have asked them on
purpose. You admit yourself that we didn't even know the man last
Thursday, and yet you expect--' Bruce stopped. He had got into a slight
tangle.

Edith looked away. She had not quite mastered the art of the inward
smile.

'Far better, in my opinion,' continued Bruce, walking up and down the
room.--'Now, don't interrupt me in your impulsive way, but hear me
out--it would be far more kind and sensible in every way for you to sit
right down at that little writing-table, take out your stylographic pen
and write an