Of course it was largely due to Tony. She watched him as he gathered people in, made them laugh, and brought the best out of them. It was a kind of “Open Sesame” that he whispered to everyone, a secret that he shared with them. But what Lady Gale didn’t recognise was that it was all very much on the surface; nobody really had changed at all. She might have discovered that fact from her own experience had she thought about it. For instance, she didn’t care for Mrs. Maradick any more than before; she liked her, indeed, rather less, but she smiled and laughed and said “_Dear_ Mrs. Maradick.” Everyone felt the same. They would have embraced their dearest enemies; it was in the air. Mrs. Lester even addressed her husband— “No, Ted dear, no more meringues. You know it’s bad for you, and you’ll be sorry to-night.” He looked at her rather gloomily, and then turned and watched the gorse. Maradick suddenly leaned over and spoke to his wife. “Emmy dear, do you remember that day at Cragholt? It was just like this.” “Of course I do,” she said, nodding gaily back at him. “There was that funny Captain Bassett. . . . Such a nice man, dear Lady Gale. I wonder if you know him. Captain Godfrey Bassett. . . . Such fun.” “I wonder,” said Lady Gale, “if that is one of the Bassetts of Hindhurst. There was a Captain Bassett——” Maradick watched the golden curtain of gorse. The scent came to him; bees hummed in the air. “Well, I like being by the sea, you know. But to be _on_ it; I’ve crossed the Atlantic seven times and been ill every time. There is a stuff called—Oh! I forget—Yansfs. Yes, you can’t pronounce it—You-are-now-secure-from-sea-sickness—it wasn’t any good as far as I was concerned, but then I think you ought to take it before——” _This_ was his wife. Mrs. Lester suddenly spoke to him. “You are very silent, Mr. Maradick. Take me for a stroll some time, won’t you? No, not now. I’m lazy, but later.” She turned away from him before he could reply, and leaned over to her husband. Then he saw that Tony was at his elbow. “Come down and bathe,” the boy said, “now. No, it isn’t bad for you, really. That’s all tommy-rot. Besides, we mayn’t be able to get away later.” They left the tent together. “Is it champagne?” he asked. “What?” asked Tony. “All this amiability. I was as gruff as a—as my ordinary self—coming, and then suddenly I could have played a penny whistle; why?”