I answered nothing: but I had for a little time now thought the same. There was that about him that gave you the idea he was in some way or other not _true_. And it may as well be mentioned here that Captain Collinson got back to Lefford that same evening, in time to make his appearance at Mrs. Parker's soirée, at which both Miss Belmont and Mina Knox were present. So now we come to Tod again, and to the day of his arrival. Talking of one thing and another, telling him of this and that, of the native politics, as we all like to do when a stranger comes to set himself down, however temporarily, amidst us, I mentioned the _familiarity_ that in two of the people struck upon my memory. Never did I see this same Captain Collinson, never did I see Madame St. Vincent, or hear them speak, or listen to their laugh, but the feeling that I had met them before--had been, so to say, intimate with both one and the other--came forcibly upon me. "And yet it would seem, upon the face of things, that I never have been," I continued to Tod, when telling of this. "Madame St. Vincent says she never left the South of France until last year; and the captain has been nearly all his life in India." "You know you do take fancies, Johnny." "True. But, are not those fancies generally borne out by the result? Any way, they puzzle me, both of them: and there's a ring in their voices that----" "A ring in their voices!" put in Tod, laughing. "Say an accent, then; especially in madame's; and it sounds, to my ears, unmistakably Worcestershire." "Johnny, you _are_ fanciful!" I never got anything better from Tod. "You will have the honour of meeting them both here to-night," I said to him, "for it is Janet's turn to give the soirée, and I know they are expected." Evening came. At six o'clock the first instalment of guests knocked at the door; by half-past six the soirée was in full glory: a regular crowd. Every one seemed to have come, with the exception of the ladies from Jenkins House. Sam Jenkins brought in their excuses. Sam had run up to Jenkins House with some physic for the butler, who said he had a surfeit (from drinking too much old ale, Tamlyn thought), and Sam had made use of the opportunity to see his aunt. Madame St. Vincent objected. It would try the dear old lady too much, madame said. She was lying in a sweet sleep on the sofa in her own room; had been quite blithe and lively all day, but was drowsy now; and she had better not be disturbed until bedtime. Perhaps Mr. Sam would kindly make their excuses to Mrs. Arnold Knox. "Can't you come yourself, madame?" asked Sam, politely. "If Aunt Jenkins is asleep, and means to keep asleep till bed-time, she can't want you." "I could not think of leaving her," objected madame. "She looks for me the moment she wakes."