e's the key of my sitting-room," Seven Sachs stopped him,
producing a key.

Mr. Bryany, by a mischance catching Edward Henry's eye as he took the
key, blushed.

In a moment Edward Henry was alone with the two silent celebrities.

"Well," said Edward Henry to himself, "I've let myself in for it this
time--no mistake! What in the name of common sense am I doing here?"

Rose Euclid coughed and arranged the folds of her dress.

"I suppose, like most Americans, you see all the sights," said Edward
Henry to Seven Sachs--the Five Towns is much visited by Americans.
"What do you think of my dressing-gown?"

"Bully!" said Seven Sachs, with the faintest twinkle. And Rose Euclid
gave the mechanical, nervous giggle.

"I can do with this chap," thought Edward Henry.

The gentleman-in-waiting entered with the supper menu.

"Thank heaven!" thought Edward Henry.

Rose Euclid, requested to order a supper after her own mind, stared
vaguely at the menu for some moments, and then said that she did not
know what to order.

"Artichokes?" Edward Henry blandly suggested.

Again the giggle, followed this time by a flush! And suddenly Edward
Henry recognized in her the entrancing creature of fifteen years ago!
Her head thrown back, she had put her left hand behind her and was
groping with her long fingers for an object to touch. Having found at
length the arm of another chair, she drew her fingers feverishly
along its surface. He vividly remembered the gesture in "Flower of the
Heart." She had used it with terrific effect at every grand emotional
crisis of the play. He now recognized even her face!

"Did Mr. Bryany tell you that my two boys are coming up?" said she. "I
left them behind to do some telephoning for me."

"Delighted!" said Edward Henry. "The more the merrier!"

And he hoped that he spoke true.

But her two boys!

"Mr. Marrier--he's a young manager. I don't know whether you know him;
very, very talented. And Carlo Trent."

"Same name as my dog," Edward Henry indiscreetly murmured--and
his fancy flew back to the home he had quitted; and Wilkins's and
everybody in it grew transiently unreal to him.

"Delighted!" he said again.

He was relieved that her two boys were not her offspring. That, at
least, was something gained.

"_You_ know--the dramatist," said Rose Euclid, apparently disappointed
by the effect on Edward Henry of the name of Carlo Trent.

"Really!" said Edward Henry. "I hope he won't mind me bein