ey were talking of "Alcide,"
as they often did in those days.

"She has improved her style," someone declared. "Certainly her voice
is far more musical."

Another differed.

"She has lost something," he declared, "something which brought the
men in crowds around the stage at the 'Ambassador's.' I don't know what
you'd call it--a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. She sings
better perhaps. But I don't think she lays hold of one so."

"I will tell you what there is about her which is so fetching,"
Drummond, who was lounging by, declared. "She contrives somehow to
strike the personal note in an amazing manner. You are wedged in
amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you
are almost out of sight. Yet you catch her eye--you can't seem to
escape from it. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for
you, the whole song is for you. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse
when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself."

"And if you are a millionaire like Drummond," someone remarked, "you
send round a note and ask her to come out to supper."

"In the present case," Drummond remarked, glancing across the room,
"Cheveney wouldn't permit it."

Ennison dropped the evening paper which he had been pretending to
read. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth.

"Cheveney wouldn't have anything to say about it, as it happens," he
remarked, a little grimly. "Ungracious little beast, I call her. I
don't mind telling you chaps that except on the stage I haven't set
eyes on her this side of the water. I've called half a dozen times at
her flat, and she won't see me. Rank ingratitude, I call it."

There was a shout of laughter. Drummond patted him on the shoulder.

"Never mind, old chap," he declared. "Let's hope your successor is
worthy of you."

"You fellows," Ennison said quietly, "are getting a little wild. I
have known Miss Pellissier as long as any of you perhaps, and I have
seen something of her since her arrival in London. I consider her a
very charming young woman--and I won't hear a word about Paris, for
there are things I don't understand about that, but I will stake my
word upon it that to-day Miss Pellissier is entitled not only to our
admiration, but to our respect. I firmly believe that she is as
straight as a die."

Ennison's voice shook a little. They were his friends, and they
recognized his unusual earnestness. Drummond, who had been about to
speak, refrai