Miss Van Tuyn looked suddenly rather rebellious. She did not glance towards the Philadelphia school friends, but turned her shoulder towards them and said: “Naturally my marriage would make a great difference to Fanny, but I have never known her to worry about it.” “She is worrying now!” said poor Braybrooke, with earnest conviction. “But really she--I am sure she wishes to speak to you.” The line showed itself in Miss Van Tuyn’s forehead. “Will you be kind and just go and ask her what she wants? Please tell her that I am not coming back yet as I am going to call on Lady Sellingworth when I leave here.” Braybrooke got up, trying to conceal his reluctance to obey. Miss Cronin, entrenched as it were behind her old school friend, and with dawnings of the dragon visible beneath her feathered hat, and even, strangely, mysteriously, underneath her long cloak of musquash, was endeavouring by signs and wonders to attract her Beryl’s attention, while Mrs. Clem Hodson stood looking imperious, and ready for any action that would prove her solidarity with her old schoolmate. “What she wants--and you are going to call on Lady Sellingworth!” said Braybrooke. “Yes; and to-night I’m dining out.” “Dining out to-night--just so.” There was no further excuse for delay, and he went towards the two old ladies, a grievous ambassador. It really had been the most unpleasant afternoon he remembered to have spent. He began to feel almost in fault, almost as if he had done--or at the least had contemplated doing--something outrageous, something for which he deserved the punishment which was now being meted out to him. As he slowly approached Miss Cronin he endeavoured resolutely to bear himself like a man who had not proposed that day for Miss Van Tuyn’s hand. But preposterously, Miss Cronin’s absurd misconception seemed to have power over his conscience, and that again over his appearance and gait. He was fully aware, as he went forward to convey Miss Van Tuyn’s message, that he made a very poor show of it. In fact, he was just then living up to Dick’s description of him as “the beard with the gentleman.” “Oh, Mr. Braybrooke,” said Miss Cronin as he came up, “so you are here with Beryl!” “Yes; so I am here with Miss Van Tuyn!” Miss Cronin exchanged a glance with Mrs. Clem Hodson. “You didn’t tell me when you called that you were taking her out to tea!” “No, I didn’t!” said Braybrooke. “This is my old schoolmate, Mrs. Clem Hodson. Suzanne, this is Mr. Braybrooke, a friend of Beryl’s.” Mrs. Clem Hodson bowed from the waist, and looked at Braybrooke with the expression of one who knew a great deal more about him than his own mother knew. “This hotel overcharges,” she said firmly. “Really! I should have scarcely have thought--” “There were two pieces of plum cake on the bill, and we only ate one.” “Oh, I’ve just remembered,” said Miss Cronin, as if irradiated with sudden light. “What, dear?”