'I said that I was very much astonished at Miss Flummerfelt's misunderstanding me so completely. I even said that some girls have a way of taking everything as if it was meant--in that sort of way, and that I had only asked her to lunch to meet my wife. But, of course, I promised not to do it again. And now it will be rather awful at the rehearsals, because Mrs Mitchell, of course, told her back, and Miss Flummerfelt and I don't speak.' 'Well, after all, it doesn't matter so very much. You only have to announce her. It's with the woman who plays Lady Jenkins you have your longer scene, isn't it? What is she like?' 'Mrs Abbot, do you mean? Oh, I don't think much of her. She's acted before and thinks herself quite as good as a professional, and frightfully smart. She's the most absurd snob you ever saw. She had the cheek to criticise me and say that I don't move about the room naturally, like a real footman. I told her, rather ironically, that I was afraid I'd never been one. So she answered, "Still, you might have seen one." Oh, I have a good deal to go through, one way and another!' 'You'll be glad when it's over, won't you?' 'Very glad. The strain's telling on my health. But I've been better on the whole, I think, don't you?' 'Yes, indeed. You know you have to be,' Edith said. 'Of course--I know. Try not to make me late again tomorrow.' CHAPTER XXXIX The Solution As Sir Charles was walking back from the Reeves' house, he met Anne Yeo in Piccadilly. She had just taken the telegram from Eugenia. He greeted her warmly and asked her to walk a little way with him, to which she agreed, silently giving him credit for so heroically concealing his consciousness of her odd appearance. She herself was well aware that in her mackintosh, driving-gloves, and eternal golf-cap she presented a sufficiently singular effect, and that there were not many people in London at three o'clock on a sunny afternoon who would care to be found dead with her. 'I've just seen Hyacinth,' he said. 'Then you know about the trouble?' 'What trouble?' 'As if she could help telling you! However, it's going to be all right.' 'Do you think so?' 'I'm certain.' 'I never thought him good enough for her,' Sir Charles said. 'Who is?' she asked. 'Has he really been--philandering?' 'Probably. Don't all men?' 'You're as great a cynic as ever, I see,' he laughingly said. 'And you're as noble as ever. But I won't tax your chivalry too far. Good-bye,' and she abruptly left him. She was on her way to Cook's. She had suddenly decided to emigrate. Sir Charles wondered why Anne was so sure, but her words had comforted him. He believed her. He not only thought that she must be right, but he instinctively felt certain that she had taken some steps in the matter which would result in success. Some people liked Anne, many detested her, but she inspired in both friends and enemies a species of trust.