The effect of the little cortège on Mrs. Davies was remarkable. She uttered a loud scream, tore herself free from her husband and shot round the corner at a run. The Vicar, who had lost his glasses owing to the violence of his wife's departure, groped wildly for them and then disappeared in pursuit. "I believe they really _are_ mad," said Isobel in an undertone to Sister. Then she came forward once more to greet her new visitor. But Sir Edward was before her. "How do you do!" he said heartily. "I needn't ask if you are Mr. Wentworth--your escort gives you away! I suppose my daughter told you I was interested in things oriental. How good of you to think of bringing these fellows for me to see!" He trotted up to the negroes, who executed a wonderful simultaneous salaam, after which, rising on to one knee, they held out their bowls towards him. It was beautifully done; the tea-party, who had quite forgotten the gloom of the earlier proceedings, and were watching with all their eyes, felt that they ought to applaud. Sir Edward was delighted. "Magnificent!" he said. "And what wonderful bowls! I'd no idea anything so fine survived." He lifted one bowl with an effort and examined the chasing. "Marvelous!" he whispered. Alf, whose former shyness and apprehension had been dispelled like a cloud of smoke in a strong wind by his kindly reception, made his first remark. "They're for you, sir," he said. "A present." "Nonsense, my dear fellow, I couldn't possibly...." But Alf was dismissing his two servitors. They understood his gestures, and went. Sir Edward determined to leave the question of the bowls until later. The collector's greed was in his heart, and perhaps if the fellow was as rich as he seemed he'd never miss them.... Ruminating, he followed Alf to the tea-table, where Isobel was already filling a cup. Mr. Wentworth, now quite at his ease, showed a strong desire to sit by his hostess; but she was still too worn out in mind to cope with another visitor. She introduced him, therefore, to one or two of the officers about her and delivered him over to them. Alf was already--owing to the mystery which enveloped him--a local celebrity; and now he found himself a popular hero. He was borne off round the grounds by a small crowd of half-admiring, half-amused young officers, who extracted a great deal of enjoyment from him while contriving not to hurt his feelings. He found himself on terms with them such as he could never have dreamed possible in the days when he had been a mere private with a conviction that the less he had to do with the commissioned ranks the better for all classes. He was encouraged to call captains by their simple surnames and to venture on familiarities with subalterns; and he played a game of extraordinarily bad billiards which (more to his own astonishment than his opponents') he won.