"Wasn't it? Never mind; he had an idea, so have I. I think I shall run out on to the Embankment and shout 'Eureka' too. Aren't you dying to know? I'm going to give a grand dinner for Te--for Mr. and Miss Haviland; and I'm not going to ask one--single--nonentity,--there! First of all, we must have Mr. Knowles--of course. Then--perhaps--Mr. Flaxman Reed. H'm--yes; we haven't asked him since he came up to St. Teresa's. If he isn't anybody in particular, you can't exactly call him nobody." Having settled the question of Mr. Flaxman Reed, Audrey sat down and sent off several invitations on the spot. Owing to some refusals, the dinner-party gradually shrank in size and importance, and it was not until within four days of its date that Audrey discovered to her dismay that she was "a man short." As good luck would have it, she met Knowles that afternoon in Regent Street, and confided to him her difficulty and her firm determination not to fill the gap with any "nonentity" whatever. Audrey was a little bit afraid of Mr. Percival Knowles, and nothing but real extremity would have driven her to this desperate course. "If you could suggest any one I know, who isn't a nonentity, and who wouldn't mind such ridiculously short notice: it's really quite an informal little dinner, got up in a hurry, you know, for Mr. Haviland, a very clever young artist, and his sister." Knowles smiled faintly: he had heard before of the very clever young artist (though not of his sister). He was all sympathy. "Sorry. I can't think of any one you know--_not_ a nonentity--but I should like to bring a friend, if I may. You don't know him, I think, but I believe he very much wants to know you." "Bring him by all means, if he won't mind such a casual invitation." "I'll make that all right." Knowles lifted his hat, and was about to hurry away. "By-the-bye, you haven't told me your friend's name." He stopped, and answered with a sibilant incoherence, struggling as he was with his amusement. But at that moment Audrey's attention was diverted by the sight of Ted coming out of the New Gallery, and she hardly heard what was being said to her. "I shall be delighted to see Mr. St. John," she called back, making a random shot at the name, and went on her way with leisurely haste towards the New Gallery. CHAPTER IX