grimace at her
companions. Before doing so she made sure that Miss Beveridge was not
looking, but she forgot that in turning her head in the opposite
direction she was naturally _vis-a-vis_ with Cynthia and Betty, and
they--silly things!--simultaneously jerked with surprise, flushed and
struggled after speech, thereby hopelessly giving away the situation.

"Er--are you _quite_ sure you will not have a cup of tea? Or--er,
coffee? We have both ready. Or a high-tea downstairs, if you care for
anything more solid."

"I have had luncheon, thank you. I am not in the least in need of
food," replied Miss Beveridge in tones of scathing coldness. There was
a ghastly silence.

"Horrid thing! Always did hate 'em!" soliloquised Betty.

"How dare she? Ungrateful wretch!" queried Cynthia.

"She's cross because she's miserable; she's just as miserable as she can
be! Somebody else could comfort her, but I can't. She thinks I am a
presumptuous chit. Perhaps I am, trying to do work that is far beyond
me!" sighed Nan, with a heavy sinking of the heart. She could not
attempt to speak, and the silence lasted several minutes, until at last
Miss Beveridge roused herself to inquire hesitatingly, yet with a
certain suppressed eagerness--

"Were you perhaps wishing to--er--to organise some classes? My time is
disengaged on Saturday afternoons. My special subject is music, but I
hold very high certificates, and am of course competent to take up other
subjects."

Nan gasped with dismay! Here was a situation, to be treated as a
schoolgirl whose education required finishing! She could hear Gervase's
derisive laughter, the amused chuckle with which he would say, "Silly
girl, serve you right!" Across the room Cynthia and Betty were
sniggering, and biting their lips. This was indeed a travesty of what
she had expected. The blood flamed in her cheeks, but she answered
steadily enough--

"Oh no, I was not thinking of anything for myself. It occurred to me
that it might be dull in those `Homes' on holiday afternoons, especially
for ladies who are strangers in London, and I hoped it might make a
little change for them to come out to tea. It would certainly be a
pleasure to me to receive them."

"Indeed!" said Miss Beveridge coldly.

The momentary animation which had flickered in her face at the thought
of the possibility of classes died away, leaving her looking even more
bleached and hopeless than before. She pressed her