He was dining with Lavender, not at home, but at a club in St. James’ street; and either his curiosity was too great, or he had forgotten altogether Ingram’s warnings to him that he should hold his tongue. “Oh, did you?” said Lavender, showing no great interest. “Waiter, some French mustard. What did Ingram say to you?” The question was asked with much apparent indifference, and the boy stared. “Well,” he said at length, “I suppose there is some misunderstanding between Mrs. Lavender and Mr. Ingram, for they both saw each other, and they both passed on without speaking. I was very sorry--yes. I thought they were friends--I thought Mr. Ingram knew Mrs. Lavender even before you did; but they did not speak to each other, not one word.” Lavender was in one sense pleased to hear this. He liked to hear that his wife was obedient to him. But, he said to himself with a sharp twinge of conscience, she was carrying her obedience too far. He had never meant that she should not even speak to her old friend. He would talk to her about it as soon as he got home, and in as kindly a way as was possible. Mosenberg did not play billiards, but they remained late in the billiard-room, Lavender playing pool and getting out of it rather successfully. He could not speak to Sheila that night, but next morning, before going out, he did. “Sheila,” he said, “Mosenberg told me last night that you met Mr. Ingram and did not speak to him. Now, I didn’t mean anything like that. You must not think me unreasonable. All I want is that he shall not interfere with our affairs and try to raise some unpleasantness between you and me, such as might arise from the interference of even the kindest of friends. When you meet him outside or at any one’s house, I hope you will treat him just as usual.” Sheila replied calmly, “If I am not allowed to receive Mr. Ingram here, I cannot treat him as a friend elsewhere. I would rather not have friends whom I can only speak to in the streets.” “Very well,” said Lavender, wincing under the rebuke, but fancying that she would soon repent her of this resolve. In the meantime, if she would have it so, she would have it so. So that was an end of this question of Mr. Ingram’s interference for the present. But very soon--in a couple of days, indeed--Lavender perceived the change that had been wrought in the house in Holland Park to which he had been accustomed to resort. “Cecelia,” Mrs. Kavanagh had said on Ingram’s leaving, “you must not be rude to Mr. Lavender.” She knew the perfect independence of that gentle young lady, and was rather afraid it might carry her too far.