“Come along,” she exclaimed, “I’m delighted to see you. I know you and Paddy will get on first-rate.” Gwen held out her hand to Paddy and looked frankly into her face, as much as to say, “I know you hate me, but I mean to change all that,” and Paddy, slightly disarmed, shook hands and said, “How do you do,” with a little less starchiness. For ten minutes, results hung in the balance. Gwen was at her best; she was indeed most charming; but Paddy was obstinate, not to say somewhat pig-headed, and when she was in that mood, to quote Basil, you might almost as well try to persuade a lamp-post to walk across the road. But Basil was not Gwen, and if he had tried for a life-time, he could not have cultivated such powers of persuasion as hers and in this she meant to win. Paddy would have needed to be made of adamant to withstand her. In the end, of course, she gave in, and by the time the stately butler condescended to serve them with tea, a merrier trio it would have been difficult to find. Lawrence heard their gay laughter down in the hall, as he hung up his hat, and smiled a little grimly. “Gwen’s won,” he said to himself. “I wonder what sort of a reception I shall get?” He walked slowly upstairs, and as slowly entered the drawing-room. Paddy was entertaining the other two with some of her dispensing adventures and for a moment he remained unnoticed. Paddy saw him first. “I was reaching to a high shelf—” she was saying, and then she stopped short suddenly, with her eyes on the door. The other two looked round quickly, as Lawrence advanced, saying, “Yes, you were reaching to a high shelf, and—” “Nothing,” said Paddy, “or at least nothing that would interest you.” “Try me.” “Come along, Lawrie,” cried Gwen. “We’re having a regular, jolly old school-girl afternoon. You’ll find it an education gratis, and you can eat as much cake as you like. We are all eating as if we had never ate before, to make up for the times we went hungry at school.” Lawrence sat down by Doreen, opposite to Paddy. “Delighted,” he murmured. “Always thought the _rôle_ of school-girl would suit me down to the ground. Touching this high shelf—don’t let me interrupt you, Paddy.” Paddy looked furious and got scarlet in the face. She was determined she _would not_ be friendly with Lawrence, and yet here she was, almost on intimate terms with his _fiancée_, and fairly caught as regards himself. Gwen dropped her long lashes to hide a decided gleam of amusement, while Doreen, pouring out tea and noticing nothing, said, “Go on, Paddy, you needn’t mind Lawrence.” “Of course not,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on her. “Why should she?” Still Paddy bit her lip and hesitated. “It’s time I was going,” she said at last, very lamely, looking around for her gloves. Gwen’s mouth twitched desperately at the corners and Doreen looked up in surprise. Doreen’s expression made Paddy pull herself together.