"Well, I felt that I had sized up Lady Brent, Wilbraham and young Harry pretty well by the end of the meal, and the conversation that went with it. I have a knack of doing so with people I meet, and find that upon closer acquaintance I have seldom been wrong in my first impressions. Mrs. Brent puzzled me a little more. Was she entirely happy? I thought not, though there was nothing very definite to go upon. If not, it could not be the fault of any of the three other members of the household. She evidently adores her boy, for her face lights up whenever she looks at him, and he treats her with an affection and consideration that are very pleasant to see. Lady Brent treats her in much the same way, and is evidently a woman of much kindness of heart, for Mrs. Brent, as I have already said, is not up to her level, and living in constant companionship with her might be expected to grate a little on the nerves of a lady of her sort. Wilbraham would not be likely to hide any contempt that he might feel for some one of less intelligence than himself. He might not show it openly to the mother of his pupil, but I should certainly have noticed it if it had been there. But he behaved beautifully to her, and smiled when he spoke to her as if he really liked her, and found pleasure in anything that she said. And she seemed grateful, and smiled at him in return. They are in fact a very happy little party, these curiously assorted people who live so much to themselves. And yet, as I said above, the one member of it did not strike me as being entirely happy, and I could not help wondering why. "Wilbraham enlightened me, as we smoked together after lunch, walking up and down a broad garden path under the April sunshine. ’What do you think of Mrs. Brent?’ he asked me, with a side-long whimsical glance that is very characteristic of the man. "I was a little put out by the suddenness of the question, but took advantage of it to be equally direct and to ask my question. ’Is there anything to make her unhappy?’ "He laughed at that. ’I see you have your eyes open,’ he said. ’I suppose it’s the novelist’s trick. Any questions to ask about the rest of us?’ "’You haven’t answered my first one yet,’ I replied, and he laughed again, and said: ’Did you ever hear of Lottie Lansdowne?’ "The name seemed vaguely familiar to me, but he said, without waiting for my reply: ’I don’t suppose you ever did, but if I were you I should tell Mrs. Brent on the first opportunity that when you were young and going the round of the theatres that was the one name in the bill you never could resist.’ "’I suppose you mean that Mrs. Brent was once on the stage and that was her name,’ I said. ’But I don’t remember her all the same.’