"Why, my dear Jimmy, I thought you adored her. Isn't the poor lady the very latest?" "My dear girl, I do adore her. Leave it at that. It's an excellent reason for not being here: the best. But I'm going up with a star, which is another reason. And I hope to be here on Sunday, which is the most I can afford myself. Really, that's all. But you like her, you say; or you should." "I do like her. She's not very talkative--to me; but listens well. Considine will like her. Listeners are rare with him, poor dear. But you move me. I didn't know you were so far gone." "Never mind how far I am gone, provided that I go," said Urquhart. "Oh, at this rate, I will hasten you. I can't be bothered with a _cause celebre_. But what am I to tell the lady? You must be practical, my fine man." "Tell her that I was sent for in a hurry. Hint at the air if you think proper. I think I have said all that is necessary in the note." * * * * * The Macartneys were expected to lunch. Urquhart left his house at noon, driving himself in a motor. He disappeared in the forest, but didn't go very far. James heard of his host's defection with impassivity and a glance of his eyeglass. "Wonder what Jimmy has shied off for?" he said to Lucy through the dressing-room door. "Aeroplaning or royalty, do you think? The ----s may have sent for him. I know he knows them. But it's characteristic. He makes a fuss about you, so that you think you're his life or death; and then you find out--not at all! You simply don't exist--that's all. What do you think?" "I don't think that we don't exist," she said. "I think that something important has happened." "Oh, well," said James, "one had got into the way of thinking that one was important oneself. D----d cool, I call it."