“I have known you by sight for a long time, Mr. Loring!” she said. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance!” “The delight is mine!” was the response, spoken with just that touch of well-bred deference which is never so attractive to a woman as when it is exhibited in conjunction with such a personality as Loring’s. “It is one for which I have wished for a long time!” “Seen the papers to-night?” interposed Julian eagerly. “We’ve lost Nottingham, you see!” He was alluding to a bye-election which had led to the political discussion of the evening before, and Loring nodded. “I see,” said Loring. “Romayne has told you, no doubt,” he went on, turning to Mrs. Romayne, “that we foregathered to a considerable extent last night over politics--and other things.” The last words were spoken with a glance at the younger man which seemed to ascribe to their acquaintance an altogether more personal and friendly footing than political discussion alone could have afforded it, and Mrs. Romayne laughed very graciously. “Yes; he has told me!” she said. “I am rather thinking of getting a little jealous of you, Mr. Loring.” A few minutes’ more talk followed--talk in which Loring bore himself with his usual cynical manner, just tempered into even unusual effectiveness--and then Mrs. Romayne prepared to move on. “You must come and see us,” she said to Loring. “Julian will give you the address. I am at home on Fridays; and I hope you will dine with us before long!” She gave him a pretty nod and an “_au revoir_,” and turned away. “He’s awfully jolly, isn’t he, mother?” exclaimed Julian, as soon as they were out of earshot. “Very good style,” returned Mrs. Romayne approvingly. “He is just the kind of man to get on. You have a good deal of discrimination, sir,” she added. The mother and son were separated after that, and about half an hour later Mrs. Romayne caught sight of Julian disappearing with a very pretty girl, whose face she did not know, in the direction of the supper-room, just as she herself was greeted by Lord Garstin and pressed to repair thither. “Thanks, no,” she said lightly. “There is such a crowd, and I really don’t want anything.” She paused. That accentuated vivacity was still about her, as she looked up at Lord Garstin with a little smile and a gesture which he thought unusually charming. “I want a little chat with you, though, very much,” she said with pretty confidence. “I’m going to ask you to give me some advice, do you know. Will it bore you frightfully?” “On the contrary, it will delight me,” was the ready and by no means insincere response. Mrs. Romayne made a gracious and grateful movement of her head. “I would rather take your opinion than that of any other man I know,” she said confidentially. She stopped and laughed slightly. “It’s about my boy, of course!” she said. “I want to know what you think of a club for a young man in his position? Do you think, now, that it is a good thing?”