y her, I am letting myself in for.' If
he hasn't broken off the engagement already, we may be in time."

He led the way to the piano. "Tell Madge I want her," he whispered. He
struck a few notes; and then in a voice that drowned every other sound in
the room, struck up a comic song.

The effect was magical.

He followed it up with another. This one with a chorus, consisting
chiefly of "Umpty Umpty Umpty Umpty Ay," which was vociferously encored.

By the time it was done with, Madge had discovered a girl who could sing
"Three Little Pigs;" and a sad, pale-faced gentleman who told stories. At
the end of one of them Madge's brother spoke to Joan in a tone more of
sorrow than of anger.

"Hardly the sort of anecdote that a truly noble and high-minded young
woman would have received with laughter," he commented.

"Did I laugh?" said Joan.

"Your having done so unconsciously only makes the matter worse," observed
Mr. Singleton. "I had hoped it emanated from politeness, not enjoyment."

"Don't tease her," said Madge. "She's having an evening off."

Joan and the Singletons were the last to go. They promised to show Mr.
Halliday a short cut to his hotel in Holborn.

"Have you thanked Miss Lessing for a pleasant evening?" asked Mr.
Singleton, turning to Mr. Halliday.

He laughed and put his arm round her. "Poor little woman," he said.
"You're looking so tired. It was jolly at the end." He kissed her.

He had passed through the swing doors; and they were standing on the
pavement waiting for Joan's bus.

"Why did we all like him?" asked Joan. "Even Miss Lavery. There's
nothing extraordinary about him."

"Oh yes there is," said Madge. "Love has lent him gilded armour. From
his helmet waves her crest," she quoted. "Most men look fine in that
costume. Pity they can't always wear it."

The conductor seemed impatient. Joan sprang upon the step and waved her
hand.

CHAPTER VII

Joan was making herself a cup of tea when there came a tap at the door.
It was Mrs. Phillips.

"I heard you come in," she said. "You're not busy, are you?"

"No," answered Joan. "I hope you're not. I'm generally in about this
time; and it's always nice to gossip over a dish of tea."

"Why do you say 'dish' of tea!" asked Mrs. Phillips, as she lowered
herself with evident satisfaction into the easy chair Joan placed for
her.

"Oh, I don't know," laughed Joan. "Dr. Johnson always talked of a 'dish'
of tea. Giv