"Yes," said Garth. "Air-balls weren't in it! It was a football this
time--good solid leather. And we each kicked one goal,--a tie, you
know. For your advice went home to me, and I think my reply showed you
the true lie of things; eh, Miss Champion?"

He was feeling seven again; but Jane saw him now through old Margery's
glasses, and it did not annoy her.

"Yes," she said, smiling at him with her kind, true eyes; "we will
consider it a tie, and surely it will prove a tie to our friendship.
Thank you, Dal, for all you have told me."

Arrived in her room, Jane found she had half an hour to spare before
dressing. She took out her diary. Her conversation with Garth Dalmain
seemed worth recording, particularly his story of the preacher whose
beauty of soul redeemed the ugliness of his body. She wrote it down
verbatim.

Then she rang for her maid, and dressed for dinner, and the concert
which should follow.

CHAPTER VI

THE VEIL IS LIFTED

"MISS CHAMPION! Oh, here you are! Your turn next, please. The last item
of the local programme is in course of performance, after which the
duchess explains Velma's laryngitis--let us hope she will not call it
'appendicitis'--and then I usher you up. Are you ready?"

Garth Dalmain, as master of ceremonies, had sought Jane Champion on the
terrace, and stood before her in the soft light of the hanging Chinese
lanterns. The crimson rambler in his button-hole, and his red silk
socks, which matched it, lent an artistic touch of colour to the
conventional black and white of his evening clothes.

Jane looked up from the comfortable depths of her wicker chair; then
smiled at his anxious face.

"I am ready," she said, and rising, walked beside him. "Has it gone
well?" she asked. "Is it a good audience?"

"Packed," replied Garth, "and the duchess has enjoyed herself. It has
been funnier than usual. But now comes the event of the evening. I say,
where is your score?"

"Thanks," said Jane. "I shall play it from memory. It obviates the
bother of turning over."

They passed into the concert-room and stood behind screens and a
curtain, close to the half-dozen steps leading, from the side, up on to
the platform.

"Oh, hark to the duchess!" whispered Garth. "My NIECE, JANE CHAMPION,
HAS KINDLY CONSENTED TO STEP INTO THE BREACH--' Which means that you
will have to step up on to that platform in another half-minute. Really
it would be kinder to you if she said less about Velma. But n