‘Hullo, you birds, I didn’t expect you quite so early,’ Reggie cried, ‘let me introduce you to my friend Mrs. Jack Lomond, Lord Blitherington, Mr. Cochrane.’ The lady removed a jewelled cigarette tube from her mouth, and enquired with a smile, ‘Won’t you join the dance, as they say in “Alice in Wonderland.”’ ‘Oh, don’t let us spoil your game,’ returned Blithers, ‘five’s the best number for poker.’ ‘That’s all right,’ said the Pilot, ‘we were just finishing this when you came. Let’s turn it into Bank, if Mrs. Lomond has no objection.’ ‘Oh, whatever you like,’ the lady put in with a smile; ‘you must be rather surprised at my appearance here,’ she continued, addressing me, ‘but Reggie asked me down for the picnic to-morrow, and I hadn’t time to reply, so I came in person, which is perhaps better.’ As we settled down at the historical round table to play Bank, I observed that Blithers carefully commandeered the chair next to Mrs. Lomond, and she enquired of him at once, ‘Are you any relation to Billy Jenkins of the 110th? I used to know him when I was in India.’ ‘Oh yes,’ returned Blithers cheerfully, ‘he’s my uncle, and a very good sort too, but,’ he added with sudden apprehension, ‘please don’t mention him to my aunt to-morrow, he’s the black sheep of the family.’ ‘Poor old Jenks,’ Mrs. Lomond remarked reflectively, ‘I used to tell him when we were at Jumbulpore that he’d never come to a good end. His affections were too shifting; he never stuck to one love for more than a month.’ ‘Not even his wife,’ remarked Blithers solemnly, as play proceeded, accompanied by much frivolous conversation. Soon after 11.30 Mrs. Lomond rose to go, remarking, ‘It’s very good of you all to have given me such a pleasant evening. See you in the morning, Reggie.’ ‘Half a mo, Mrs. Lomond,’ said Blithers, as he skipped down the staircase after her, ‘I’m going your way, may I see you home?’ And they left together. ‘Jolly little woman, isn’t she?’ said Reggie. ‘And clever too; she’s got all the diplomatic posts attached to her petticoat, and Secretaries of State attend her like lap dogs. Her husband is, I believe, in Northern Nigeria,’ he added reflectively as we moved up to bed, ‘and the date of his return is quite uncertain.’