Hugh could not fail to be gratified by the pleasure which colored Miss Loring’s voice when she discovered what he wanted of her, and by her quick acceptance of his luncheon invitation, given in spite of the fact that she must break a previously made engagement. He had been rather driven to seeking feminine companionship to-day because he was feeling particularly lonely and at loose ends. The reasons were various and not all of them plain even to himself. The uppermost one seemed to be, however, that it was Ariel’s birthday and that everybody appeared to have known it, except himself. Joan had, at any rate, and she had bargained with Grandam for Ariel to have a half-holiday in which to celebrate it. A party had been arranged and Hugh not been included. Joan had made an attempt at explaining this anomaly by telling him that the party was really Schwankovsky’s whole plan and expense, and that she was not in a position to suggest the guests.—And now Hugh was taking Miss Loring to lunch. He went to her offices to pick her up and suggest that she choose the restaurant. At once she said, “The Jade Swan.” It was in the Village, she explained, but rather beyond anything the Village had ever produced before. “Magnificent, in fact. Every one’s trying it, but it will be my first try, Hugh. I’m going to call you Hugh, now that you’ve at last begun to bother about me, and of course I’m Brenda. And let’s have a table in the balcony where we can see the whole circus. There’ll be plenty of celebrities to stare at. Writers—artists—editors. But just the terribly successful ones. The other sort couldn’t afford it, poor dears!” There were only half a dozen tables in the balcony, and Hugh and his guest were lucky in securing the last of these. It stood against the railing and afforded a view of the entire main floor of the restaurant. All the tables down there were already occupied in spite of the newness of the place, except one in the very center, which had the appearance of being reserved for some particularly festive occasion. For while the other tables all had their centerpieces of poets’ narcissus, this table flaunted a big shallow jade bowl filled with orchids and white roses. “That little bouquet cost somebody a fortune,” Brenda murmured. “And it’s not only expensive. It’s lovely. It’ll be interesting to see whom it’s to honor.” And almost simultaneously Hugh knew who had ordered it and in whose honor, for Schwankovsky’s big voice boomed under the balcony beneath their feet, and he and his party entered from the street. Ariel and Joan, and a frail blond young man, made up the group. “I didn’t know. Honestly I didn’t know they were coming here,” Hugh exclaimed. His companion laughed merrily. “But of course you didn’t. Did you think I was suspecting you of shadowing Joan Nevin, dear fellow? Wasn’t it I who chose the place?”