Lady Kesters had removed her cap and motor coat, and was seated at the table in a careless attitude, leaning her head on her hand and smoking a cigarette. The door was exactly opposite to the taproom, and the assembled crowd enjoyed a rare and unexpected spectacle. A woman smoking--ay, and looking as if she were well used to it and enjoying herself--a lady, too--there was a string of pearls round her throat, and the hand that supported her dark head was ablaze with diamonds. Ottinge had heard and read that females were taking to tobacco, and here was the actual demonstration before their gloating eyes. A fine, handsome young madam, too, with a car in the yard--ay, and a friend to visit her! They craned over to catch a glimpse of the figure ushered in by Mrs. Frickett. The man’s back and shoulders had a familiar look. Why, if it wasn’t Owen, Miss Parrett’s chauffeur! The immediate result of this astounding discovery was a deadly and expressive silence. Since Wynyard had parted with his sister he had made up his mind to tell her all about Aurea. He longed to share his secret with some one, and who could be better than Leila? She would give him her sympathy and--what was more--a helping hand; if any one could unravel a hopeless tangle, it was she. After a little commonplace talk, in a few abrupt sentences he commenced to state his case. “Ah!” she exclaimed as he paused, and she dabbed the end of her cigarette on the old oak table, “so it’s all coming out now! You show your good sense, Owen, in confiding in _me_--two heads are better than one. I’ve seen the young lady; she is distractingly pretty--and I think I approve.” “Think!” The words were a text upon which her brother delivered to his astounded listener an address of such emotional eloquence, that she sat and stared in bewildered silence. As he spoke, he strode about the room, carried away by his adorable subject--Aurea’s beauty, her cleverness, her unselfishness, her simple and single-hearted disposition, her good influence in Ottinge, her delicious voice, and her entrancing smile. Oh, it was a wonderful relief to share with another the raptures so long bottled up in his own breast! In the middle of his discourse, the door, which was flung open to admit “two lemonades,”--Owen had warned his sister against the deadly Drum coffee,--revealed to a profoundly interested tap, young Owen, the shover, “a-walkin’ and a-talkin’ and a-carryin’ on like old Billy, and in such a takin’ as never was seen.” “She’s his sweetheart, ’tis sure!” suggested one sightseer. “Nay, more likely his missus,” argued another; “she was a-laughin’ at him!” As the door closed Leila threw her cigarette into the grate with a quick, decided gesture, and, leaning both elbows on the table, said, as she looked up at her brother-- “It’s an extraordinary entanglement, my dear boy. You are in love--for the first and only time in your life. Of course I can believe as much of that as I like!”