"What imagination you have, child," retorted Mrs. Perage, and took her position at the head of a small table, while Gwen and Hench sat on either side. "And I hope you don't mind our straggling into the dining-room in this free and easy way," she added to the young man; "but I couldn't take your arm as Gwen would have felt out of it, and I wasn't going to let you give Gwen your arm lest you should lack reverence for my age." And she laughed in her deep, hearty fashion, evidently desirous of making her guest feel quite at home. The dining-room was a small apartment decorated and furnished in the Jacobean style. But Hench could not see much of it, as there were only candles in sconces here and there. The most powerful illumination was that thrown by a large lamp with a green shade, which hung low over the table. In its light the white napery, the old silver, the crystal glasses and the many flowers, looked peculiarly attractive. And the table not being over large, the three seated at it could converse with one another very much at their ease. A deft maid and Peter waited dexterously, and everything ran smoothly during the meal. "This is my hour of relaxation," explained Mrs. Perage briskly. "I am ominously fond of my creature comforts and this is my favourite soup." "Why ominously?" "Silly questioner. Doesn't devotion to eating show that one is growing old?" "Then I must have been born old," said Hench gaily, "for I have always had a good appetite since I was a boy, and have always liked nice things." His eyes rested, perhaps inadvertently, on Gwen as he spoke. "Ah!" Mrs. Perage had noticed the look, and spoke significantly. "You are one of those lucky people who will always get the nice things." "I haven't had much luck so far, Mrs. Perage." "Ungrateful! What do you call this?" "Paradise!" said Hench briefly. "With you as Adam, Gwen as Eve, and myself as the Serpent." "Aren't you talking dreadful nonsense?" observed the girl seriously. "Not at all," retorted the old lady coolly. "It is common-sense to chatter amusingly. Enjoy yourself, child, and when trouble comes you will be able to remember at least one happy hour." "Trouble has come, and severe trouble, too," replied Gwen softly, and with a gloomy air. "Now, not another word!" Mrs. Perage spoke sharply. "We can talk of that afterwards in the drawing-room." "Talk of what?" asked Hench innocently, for he was surprised by Gwen's gloom and Mrs. Perage's sharpness. The old dame rubbed her nose in a vexed way. "Gwen has something to ask you this evening," she observed. "I think it is nonsense myself. No! I won't tell you what it is just now, neither will Gwen. Let us enjoy our meal without the discussion of horrors."