Mr. Collings, that eminent lawyer, had many friends in London, including important personages at Australia House. Diana went into the Embassy expecting a tête-à-tête meal, and found herself greeted by stately and elderly men and their stately and middle-aged wives. She was introduced to an Under Secretary for the Colonies, and manœuvred herself to his side when she learnt that he was one of the coming men in the Government. Diana had suddenly decided that Gordon ought to have a title. CHAPTER VIII When she got home that night she found Gordon had arrived before her. He was thoughtful, unusually subdued; most remarkable of all, was to be seen, for he invariably went to bed as soon as he reached home after a dinner or theatre, and never by any chance was he in a conversational mood at such hours. “Good time?” he asked. “Very. I met the cream of the Colonial Office. It was thin but genuine cream. Were you very late, and was she very annoyed?” Such a query, ordinarily, would be ignored. “Five minutes or so; the lady was naturally----” “Peeved?” she suggested. “And it was a lady, after all? Gordon, let me see her?” He smiled. “She wouldn’t interest you, Diana. She is rather an intellectual.” Diana was not offended. “The only thing I approve about the Bolsheviks is that they killed off the _intelligentsia_ first,” she said without heat. “I suppose they got tired of seeing their plays and hearing about their spiritual insides. What do you talk about--Bimetallism or Free Will?” He humoured her, being in a somewhat sympathetic mood. The strain of holding friendship to lecture-hall level was beginning to tell. “Books and people,” he said lightly. “And you?” She threw her cloak over the back of a chair, pulled a stool to the fire and sat down, warming her knees. Gordon, the soul of delicacy, strolled out of the line of vision. “We talked about tradesmen and the superiority of Australian beef and the difficulty of finding servants and Mrs. Carter-Corrillo’s fearful indiscretion--she went to France with the third secretary of the Montenegrin Embassy. She was only there three days, but, as Lady Pennefort said, there are twenty-four hours in every day. Some women are fools--and most men. This young man’s career is ruined, even though he swears that their mutual interest in the gravel deposits of Abbeville was the explanation of the visit. They are both keen on geology.” “And why shouldn’t that be the true explanation?” demanded Gordon stoutly, his heart warming to the geological third secretary. “Why should not men and women have mutual scientific interests?” “We’ll hear what the judge says,” she answered complacently. “Mr. Carter-Corrillo is suing for a divorce.” “On what grounds--incompatibility of interest in strata?” sneered Gordon. “Don’t be silly. Conventions are the by-laws of society. It is presumed that, if you break a by-law, you are capable of breaking the law.” He stared, amazed at her cool inconsistency.