Edith now did a thing she had never done in her life before and which was entirely unlike her. She tried her utmost to retain the group round her, and to hold their attention. For a reason of which she was hardly conscious, she wanted Aylmer Ross to see her surrounded. The minister from the place with a name like Ruritania was so immensely bowled over that he was already murmuring in a low voice (almost a hiss, as they say in melodrama): 'Vous êtes chez vous, quand? Dites un mot, un mot seulement, et je me précipiterai à vos pieds_,' while at the same time, in her other ear, Lord Rye was explaining (to her pretended intense interest) how he could play the whole of _Elektra, The Chocolate Soldier_ and _Nightbirds_ by ear without a single mistake. ('Perfectly sound!' grumbled Captain Willis, 'but why do it?') Vincy was listening, enjoying himself. Bruce came in at last, evidently engaged in an absorbed and intimate conversation with Aylmer Ross. They seemed so much interested in their talk that they went to the other end of the room and sat down there together. Aylmer gave her one glance only. Edith was unreasonably annoyed. What on earth could he and Bruce find to talk about? At length, growing tired of her position, she got up, and walked across the room to look at a picture on the wall, turning her graceful back to the room. Bruce had now at last left his companion, but still Aylmer Ross did not go and speak to her, though he was sitting alone. Musical chairs began in the studio. Someone was playing 'Baby, look-a-here,' stopping suddenly in the middle to shouts of laughter and shrieks from the romping players. In the drawing-room some of the people were playing bridge. How dull the rest of the evening was! Just before the party practically broke up, Edith had an opportunity of saying as she passed Aylmer: 'I thought we were going to have a talk instead of playing games?' 'I saw you were occupied,' he answered ceremoniously. 'I didn't like--to interrupt.' She laughed. 'Is this a jealous scene, Mr Ross?' 'I wonder,' he said, smiling, 'and if so, whose. Well, I hope to see you again soon.' '_What_ a success your charming wife has had tonight,' said Mrs Mitchell to Bruce, as they took leave. 'Everyone is quite wild about her. How pretty she is! You _must_ be proud of her.' They were nearly the last. Mr Cricker, who had firmly refused the whole evening, in spite of abject entreaties, to dance like Nijinsky, suddenly relented when everyone had forgotten all about it, and was leaping alone in the studio, while Lord Rye, always a great lingerer, was playing Richard Strauss to himself on the baby Grand, and smoking a huge cigar. 'Edith,' said Bruce solemnly, as they drove away, 'I've made a friend tonight. There was one really charming man there--he took an immense fancy to me.' 'Oh--who was that?'