--

"Look here, Felicity, I want to speak to you."

"Yes, darling?"

"Does Chetwode know what's going to win the Cambridgeshire?"

"How can he know, darling? Would it be fair? Of course he has some vague
_idea_. Candid Friend he said was the favourite. He says it's a
certainty. But _his_ certainties! (Everett, look out. You've been
overdoing the waving lately. Remember how careful I have to be not to
look like a wax-doll in a hair-dresser's shop ... with _my_ complexion)!
Go on, Savile,--what's the party going to be like?"

"Like nothing on earth, my dear, as usual. One of the governor's
baffling entertainments."

"Well, I don't care what people say, Savile! I think papa's parties are
the greatest fun one can get anywhere. It's a wonderful mixture,--a sort
of Russian salad. How exciting it is, for instance, never being quite
sure whether one is going to be taken to dinner by--Lord Rosebery,
or--Little Tich!"

"As it happens, my dear, they've both refused," said Savile ironically.

"Oh, Savile, don't be funny when I've no time to laugh. Do you deny
papa's peculiar talent for celebrities? Is De Valdez coming?"

"The Spanish composer? Oh, rather! He's coming over about his new opera.
He's all right. At least, I bear him rather, but girls like him."

"And who will be the great card this time, Savile?"

"Of course, Roy Beaumont, the inventor."

"What on earth's he invented?"

"Himself, I should think. He's only about twenty-one. Roy's a capital
chap, really. The only thing is, he wears hats that he thinks suit him.
Otherwise he dresses rather well, for a dandy."

"Why on earth shouldn't his hats suit him?" said Lady Chetwode in
surprise.

"Oh, never mind! I can't go into all that. Why, because you ought to
wear things, because they're _right_, not because----Oh, girls don't
understand dress! Don't let's fatigue ourselves discussing it. Any one
can see you've never been to Eton."

"Well, I should rather hope they could," murmured Felicity, looking in
the glass.

"F. J. Rivers and Arthur Mervyn, the actor, are coming, and--oh, a lot
more."

"I see, it's a clever party. Isn't it fun, Savile, being the only stupid
person in a crowd of clever people? They make such a fuss about one.
Aren't any real people coming?"

"A few. Some heavy M.P.'s and their wives, and Aunt William, and of
course old Ridokanaki."

"Oh, the Greek millionaire,--the banker?"

"Don't call him the banker; it reminds me of _The Hunt