a moment ago," said Mrs. Peagrim.

"How are you, Major Selby?" said Derek. He was a little surprised at
the warmth of his reception. He had not anticipated this geniality.

"My dear fellow, I'm delighted to see you," cried Uncle Chris. "But,
as I was saying, Mrs. Peagrim, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

"I don't think I will dance this one," said Mrs. Peagrim surprisingly.
"I'm sure you two must have ever so much to talk about. Why don't you
take Sir Derek and give him a cup of coffee?"

"Capital idea!" said Uncle Chris. "Come this way, my dear fellow. As
Mrs. Peagrim says, I have ever so much to talk about. Along this
passage, my boy. Be careful. There's a step. Well, well, well! It's
delightful to see you again!" He massaged Derek's arm affectionately.
Every time he had met Mrs. Peagrim that evening he had quailed
inwardly at what lay before him, should some hitch occur to prevent
the re-union of Derek and Jill: and now that the other was actually
here, handsomer than ever and more than ever the sort of man no girl
could resist, he declined to admit the possibility of a hitch. His
spirits soared. "You haven't seen Jill yet, of course?"

"No." Derek hesitated. "Is Jill.... Does she.... I mean...."

Uncle Chris resumed his osteopathy. He kneaded his companion's
coat-sleeve with a jovial hand.

"My dear fellow, of course! I am sure that a word or two from you will
put everything right. We all make mistakes. I have made them myself. I
am convinced that everything will be perfectly all right.... Ah, there
she is. Jill, my dear, here is an old friend to see you!"

II

Since the hurried departure of Mr. Pilkington, Jill had been sitting
in the auditorium, lazily listening to the music and watching the
couples dancing on the stage. She found herself drifting into a mood
of gentle contentment, and was at a loss to account for this. She was
happy--quietly and peacefully happy, when she was aware that she ought
to have been both agitated and apprehensive. When she had anticipated
the recent interview with Otis Pilkington, which she had known was
bound to come sooner or later, it had been shrinkingly and with
foreboding. She hated hurting people's feelings, and, though she read
Mr. Pilkington's character accurately enough to know that time would
heal any anguish which she might cause him, she had had no doubt that
the temperamental surface of that long young man, when he succeeded in
getting her alone, was g