“Ah, good evening, Mr. Douglas,” she said. “Colin and Dennis have been playing billiards, but they’ll be here in a moment. You saw Dennis, I think?” Douglas shook hands with her. More markedly than ever was his face that of a priest. He knew very well that Violet disliked him: dislike perhaps was too superficial a word. He had seen just that same horror in her eyes when she looked at her husband. He wondered sometimes what she knew.... “Yes, Dennis came up to my flat,” he said. “How he has grown. Developed, too, I thought, as well.” Dennis and Colin came in together. “Dennis’s fault that we’re late,” he said. “He took so long to beat his poor old father. Well, Granny, how are you? I believe you grow younger every day. Dennis and I are going to take you in to dinner, one on each side.” She got out of her chair, and stood erect. “Ah, I knew Colin was coming,” she said. “I told them Colin was coming. Now all will be well at Stanier.” She pointed at Douglas. “I want him,” she said. “He must sit by me, because he and Colin know, and I know. Those who know must sit close and talk in whispers.” Colin laughed. “So we will, Granny,” he said. “Dennis dear, you take in your mother; Granny’s got no use for you.” Dennis put Violet’s arm within his own. “Lord, what pomp!” he said. “Shall I always come down to dinner now, Mother? Oh, and I beat Father at billiards!” “Well, don’t trample on me, now I’m down,” said Colin. “You’ve no feeling of chivalry for the aged, Dennis.” Old Lady Yardley looked from one to the other. They dined at a small round table; Colin and Douglas were on each side of her, Dennis and Violet between them. Her eyes travelled past Violet as if there was no one there, but at Dennis she looked long. To-night the stimulus of these three was strong; and she began to say things she had never said before. “The boy there,” she said. “That’s my Colin before he grew to be a man. He’s come back to us as a boy. He doesn’t know the legend yet.” “Oh, but I do, Granny,” said Dennis. “It was when the devil----” “No, dear, you don’t know it yet,” said she. “You’ve only heard it, that’s a very different thing. My son Philip never knew: he only heard----” Colin intervened. “Now, Granny, eat your soup,” he said, “or we shall never get through dinner. Tell us about it afterwards.” He looked up at Dennis, just one passing glance, and saw that the boy’s attention was violently arrested. “And does Mr. Douglas know?” asked Dennis, “Is that what you wanted to whisper about? Father, what is it that you know and I’ve only heard?” It was odd how the atmosphere was suddenly charged with impalpable tension. Lady Yardley alone, whatever she said, could not have produced it; it required Dennis and his innocent boyish inquisitiveness at the other end. Violet interrupted. Dennis mustn’t ask, Dennis mustn’t know. “Dennis dear, you saw Aunt Hester to-day, didn’t you?” she said. “Didn’t she send any message to me?”