“But that’s not compulsion at all!” exclaimed Mrs. Romayne gaily. “You are acting entirely on your own impulse. Now, just consider my hard case. We were going to Pontresina; you know I’m very fond of Pontresina; it’s such a dear, bright, amusing place. And we were to have started yesterday. Now, imagine my feelings when, two nights ago, that boy of mine came home, and said that, on the whole, he thought he’d rather not go abroad this year; he’s taken with an enthusiasm for his profession, if you please, and he must needs stay somewhere quiet--so he says--and work at it. I must do him the justice to say that he was awfully apologetic, dear fellow!” Mrs. Romayne laughed her little affected, maternal laugh. “He was very anxious that I should go without him, and even offered to give up his own plan when he found how preposterous I thought that part of his idea.” There was not the faintest difference in Mrs. Romayne’s voice by which it would have been possible to tell that her last statement was even less veracious than any other part of her speech, and that Julian’s proposal to give up his plan was a figment of the moment only. “And then of course I gave in,” she continued. “Of course, he knew I should--the wretch! And we’re to have a cottage on the river, and spend six weeks there.” She finished with a little grimace, and Lady Bracondale observed politely: “I’m afraid you will find it rather dull.” “I shall find it very dull,” returned Mrs. Romayne with ingenuous frankness. “I shall be bored to death. But, then, you all know that I am really a very ridiculous woman, and if my lord and master is content, there is nothing more to be said. He’s kind enough to assure me that there are lots of nice people about! I don’t know what kind of nice people one is likely to find about the river in August and September, but I take his word for it.” “I believe the Comptons have a house-boat somewhere,” observed Miss Pomeroy. It was her first contribution to the conversation, and it was made apparently rather because conventionality by this time demanded a remark of some sort from her, than from any interest in the subject. Before any reply could be made, the door opened, and Marston Loring was announced. Mrs. Romayne had been looking rather sharp-featured, and there was a great restlessness in her eyes. It seemed to leap up and then settle suddenly into comparative repose as they rested on Marston Loring, and as he turned to shake hands with her she greeted him gaily. It was their first meeting since the night of the Academy soirée, but Loring’s manner was absolutely unmoved. His greeting to her differed in nowise from his greeting to the other two ladies, and if that fact in itself involved a subtle change in his demeanour towards her, the change was observed by one pair of eyes only--a pair of demure brown eyes. Miss Pomeroy had been a good deal interested in Marston Loring’s comings and goings during the fortnight she spent in Queen Anne Street.