Madeline was delighted to see Mrs. Aiken; had been going to a Bun-Worry. _Now_ she should do nothing of the sort; she would much rather have tea at home, and a long talk with Mrs. Aiken. She confirmed this by cancelling her out-of-door costume, possibly to set the visitor at her ease. Anyhow, it had that effect. In fact, if either showed a trace of uneasiness, it was Madeline. She more than once began to say something she did not finish, and once said "Never mind," to excuse her deficit. Of course Mrs. Aiken had not the slightest idea of what was passing in her mind; or rather, imputed it to a hesitation on the threshold of sympathetic speech about her own domestic unhappiness. Now the portion of this conversation that the story is concerned with came somewhere near the middle of it, and was as follows: "I think you said you had met my cousin, Volumnia Bax?" "At Lady Presteign's--yes, of course I did! With a splendid head of auburn hair, and a--strongly characteristic manner. We had a most amusing talk." "She has a red head and freckles, and is interested in Psych[oe]opathy." An analogue of hom[oe]opathy, which would have stuck in the gizzard of the Clarendon Press, and even the Daily This and the Evening That would have looked at a dictionary about. "Oh," said Miss Upwell dubiously. "_I_ thought her a fine-looking woman--a--a Lifeguardswoman, don't you know! And her nose carries her _pince-nez_ without her having to _pincer_ her _nez_, which makes all the difference. She talked about you." "Oh, did she? I was going to ask if she did. What did she say about me?" "You mustn't be angry with her, you know! It was all very nice." "Oh yes, of course! It always is very nice. But--a--what _was_ it? You _will_ tell me, won't you?" "Certainly--every word! But I may have mistaken what she said, because there was music--Katchakoffsky, I think; and the _cello_ only found he'd got the wrong Op., half-way through." "I suppose she was telling you all about me and Reginald. I wish she would mind her own ... well, I wish she would Psych[oe]opathize and leave _me_ alone." "Dear Mrs. Aiken!--you said you wouldn't be angry. And it was only because _I_ mentioned you and talked of that delightful visit--of--of ours to the Studio.... Oh no, no!--there's no more news. Not a word!" This came in answer to a look. Madeline went on quickly, glad to say no more of her own grief. "It was not till I myself mentioned you that she said, 'I suppose you know they've split?'" "That was a nice way to put it. Split!" "Yes--it looked as if it was sea-anemones, and each of you had split, making four." Miss Upwell then gave a very truthful report of what Miss Bax had told her, neither confounding the persons, nor dividing the substance of her narrative.