ew seconds before would
have been ludicrous if it had not been somehow pathetic.

She passed on, too considerate to press for details. "Take off your hat
and coat, won't you? When we have had some tea I will take you to your
room."

She was pleased to see that Charlie's _protege_ was garbed with extreme
simplicity. Her fair hair, which had been closely shorn, was beginning to
curl at the ends. She liked the delicate contrasting line of the black
brows above the deep blue of the eyes. She noticed that the veins on the
white temples showed with great distinctness.

"Sit down!" she said. "And now you must tell me what to call you. Your
name is Antoinette, isn't it?"

"I'm generally called Toby," said the visitor in a very shy voice. "But
you will call me--what you like."

"Would you like me to call you Toby?" Maud asked.

"Yes, please," said Toby with unexpected briskness.

Maud smiled. "Very well, my dear. Then that is settled. We are not going
to be strangers, you and I. I expect you know that Lord Saltash and I are
great friends--though I have never met your father."

Toby's pale young face flushed suddenly. She was silent for a moment.
Then: "Lord Saltash has been very good to me," she said in her shy voice.
"He--saved me from drowning. Wasn't it--wasn't it nice of him to--take
the trouble?"

"Quite nice of him," Maud agreed. "You must have been very frightened,
weren't you?"

Toby suppressed a shudder. "I was rather. And the water was dreadfully
cold. I thought we should never come up again. It was like--it was
like--" She stopped herself. "He said I was never to talk about it--or
think about it--so I won't, if you don't mind."

"Tell me about your father!" said Maud sympathetically.

For the second time the blue eyes flashed towards her. "Oh, he is still
ill in a nursing home and not allowed to see anyone." There was a hint of
recklessness in her voice. "They say he'll get well again, but--I don't
know."

"You are anxious about him," Maud said.

"No, I'm not." Recklessness became something akin to defiance. "I don't
like him much. He's so surly."

"My dear!" said Maud, momentarily disconcerted.

"Well, it's no good pretending I do when I don't, is it?" said Toby, and
suddenly smiled at her with winning gracelessness. "It isn't my fault
We're not friends--never have been. Why," she made a little gesture of
the hands, "we hardly know each other. I'd never been on _The Night Moth_
before."

"And y