ent anxiously to his task.

Bowen, however, threw a bomb-shell at the earnest servitor. He
motioned that he did not desire champagne. Gustave hesitated and
looked enquiringly at his mistress. Here was an unlooked-for
development.

"You'll take champagne?" enquired Mrs. Craske-Morton ingratiatingly.

Gustave breathed again, and whilst Bowen's attention was distracted in
explaining to Mrs. Craske-Morton that he preferred water, he had a
delicate taste in wine, Gustave filled the glass happily. Of course,
it was all right, he told himself, the lord merely wanted to be
pressed. If he had really meant "no," he would have put his hand over
his glass, as Miss Sikkum always did when she refused some of Mr.
Cordal's "Light Dinner Ale."

Gustave retired victorious with the champagne bottle, which he placed
upon the sideboard. At every interval in his manifold duties, Gustave
returned with the white-clothed bottle, and strove to squeeze a few
more drops into Bowen's untouched glass.

The terrifying constraint with which the meal had opened gradually wore
off as the wine circulated. Following the path of least resistance, it
mounted to Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe's head; but with Miss Sikkum it seemed
to stop short at her nose. Mr. Cordal's shirt-front announced that he
had temporarily given up Gumton in favour of the red, red wine of the
smoking-concert baritone. Mrs. Barnes seemed on the point of tears,
whilst Mr. Sefton's attentions to Patricia were a direct challenge to
Bowen.

Conversation at Galvin House was usually general; but it now became
particular. Every remark was directed either to or at Bowen, and each
guest strove to hear what he said. Those who were fortunate enough to
catch his replies told those who were not. A smile or a laugh from
anyone who might be in conversation with Bowen rippled down the table.
Mr. Cordal was less intent upon his food, and his inaccuracy of aim
became more than ever noticeable.

"Oh, Lord Bowen!" simpered Miss Sikkum, "do tell us where you got the
D.S.O."

Bowen screwed his glass into his eye and looked across at Miss Sikkum,
at the redness of her nose and the artificial rose in her hair.
Everyone was waiting anxiously for Bowen's reply. Mr. Cordal grunted
approval.

"At Buckingham Palace," said Bowen, "from the King. They give you
special leave, you know."

Patricia looked across at him and smiled. What was he thinking of
Galvin House refinement? What did he think