'Well, no; if you could manage it without being rude, I would rather she only left a card. The Mansions look all right from outside, and they are in a decent neighbourhood and all that, but the flat is so _very_ small. I hardly like her to see it.' 'Really, Bruce, you are absurd. Does Mitchell suppose that you live in a palace?' 'Not a _palace_, exactly; but I expect I have given him an impression that it is--well--all right.' 'Well, so it is. If you think the flat unworthy to be seen by Mrs Mitchell, why be on visiting terms with her at all? I don't want to be.' 'But, Edith, you can't refuse the advances of a woman like that, the wife of such a friend of mine as Mitchell. He's a most valuable friend--a splendid fellow--a thoroughly good sort. You've no idea how upset he was about our little quarrel the other day. He said he couldn't sleep at night thinking about it; and his wife, too, was fretting dreadfully, making herself quite ill. But now, of course, it is all right.' 'I am not so sure that it is all right; perhaps you will quarrel again on the moustache question.' 'Oh, no, we shan't! There can't be any more choppings and changings. After telling the whole company that we buried the hatchet and that I am going to take Luscombe's part, he wouldn't care to disappoint them all again. They are very keen, too, on pleasing Miss Flummerfelt, and it seems Mitchell thought she would be particularly glad I was going to act with her instead of Luscombe, because, as I say, Luscombe put so little meaning into the words. It never would have got over the footlights. Old Mitchell will be too pleased to get me back to worry about a trifle like that.' 'Well, that's all right. But do you mind writing to your mother tonight, just a line to thank her for being so kind? It was awfully nice of her, you know--she stuck up for you like anything, and put all the little extravagances on to your ill-health; and, you see, she has spared you having a scene with your father--he is just going to write you a nice note.' 'Yes, I understand, you told me before; but I have got to write a letter tonight, a rather important one. I'll write to the mater tomorrow.' 'Oh, Bruce!' 'My dear girl, business first, pleasure after. To write to one's mother is a pleasure. I wonder what the blessed ultimatum is. Look here, Edith, don't take any engagements for the next two or three weeks, will you? I shall want you every evening for rehearsing. I mean to make a good piece of work of this. I think I shall rather surprise Miss Flummerfelt and Mitchell.' 'Very well; but still I think you might write to your mother. Who is the very important business letter to?' 'Why, it's to Clarkson.' CHAPTER XXXI Jane's Sister 'I have made up my mind, Charles, never to go and see Hyacinth again!' 'Indeed! What's the matter? What has happened?' Sir Charles looked up rather wearily from his book and took off his gold-rimmed spectacles.