m-in-arm with Israel Biedermann in Throgmorton
Street. You must tell that to a city man to realise what it means.'

'But do you think Clarice cares for him?'

'Miss Le Mesurier cares for--' he began, and broke off with a question.
'Do you read Latin?' He was answered with an exasperated shake of the
head. 'Because Miss Le Mesurier always reminds me of an ode of Horace,
Finished, exquisite to the finger-tips, but still lacking something.
Soul, is it? Perhaps that lack makes the perfection. But what's your
objection to Drake?'

Mrs. Willoughby started a little. 'Objection?' she laughed. 'Why? I never
told you that I had one.'

'You told not only me, but every one at lunch--Drake himself included.'

Mrs. Willoughby looked doubtfully at Fielding. 'Well,' she said, 'there
is something. I feel inclined to explain it to you. You may be able to
advise me. Not now!' she went on as Fielding bent forward with a very
unusual interest. 'Let me see. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday'--she ticked
off the days upon her fingers. 'Thursday afternoon. Could you come and
see me then?'

'Yes.'

'Thanks. Good-bye, and don't forget; five o'clock. I shall be in to
no one else.' And Mrs. Willoughby drove off with the smile again
upon her face.

CHAPTER V

Whether Fielding was correct in limiting Miss Le Mesurier's capacity
for continued seriousness, she was undeniably serious when she called
upon Mrs. Willoughby at half-past one on the following day. There were
dark shadows under her eyes, and the eyes themselves seemed to look
pathetic reproaches at a world which had laid upon her unmerited
distress. Mrs. Willoughby was startled at her appearance, and imagined
some family disaster.

'Why, Clarice, what has happened?' she exclaimed. 'You look as if you
hadn't slept all night.'

Clarice kissed her, and for answer sighed wearifully. Mrs. Willoughby was
immediately relieved. The trouble was due, she realised, to some new
shuffle of Clarice's facile emotions. She returned the kiss, and
refrained from further questions; but, being a practical woman, she rang
the bell and ordered the servant to lay two places for lunch.

Clarice sank despondently into the most comfortable chair in the room.

'Not for me,' she said. 'I am sure I couldn't eat anything.'

'You may as well try, dear,' replied Mrs. Willoughby; and she crossed to
Clarice and unpinned her hat--a little straw hat, with the daintiest of
pink ribbons. She held it in her hand