An unbecoming flush mounted to Daphne’s cheeks. “I don’t know how you’ve got the face,” she said. Much to Jane’s relief, she withdrew from her to the farthest corner of the sofa, and then glared. “Poor Arnold! Aunt Ethel always did say you were sly. She always said she wouldn’t trust you a yard.” She paused, sniffed, and then added, in what was meant for a tone of great dignity: “And please, whom _has_ Arnold married?” “Her—her name is Jane, I believe,” said Jane, with a tremor. At this moment she became aware that Lady Heritage had risen to her feet. Mrs. Cottingham’s voice clamoured for attention. “Oh, Lady Heritage, not without your tea! It won’t be a moment. Indeed, I couldn’t dream of letting you go like this. Just a cup of tea, you know, so refreshing. Indeed, it would distress me to think of your facing that long drive without your tea.” Raymond stood perfectly still, her face weary and unresponsive. “I am afraid my time is not my own,” she said, and crossed the room to where the two girls were sitting. They both rose, Daphne with a jerk that dislodged a photograph frame. “I am afraid I must interrupt your talk,” said Lady Heritage. “Were you living school triumphs over again? I suppose you swept off all the prizes between you?” If there was irony in the indifferent voice, Miss Todhunter was unaware of it. She laughed rather loudly, and said: “Renata never won a prize in her life.” “Oh!” said Raymond, with a lift of the brows. “I am surprised. I pictured her always at the head of her class, and winning everything.” Daphne laughed again. She was still angry. “I’m afraid she’s been putting on side,” she said. “Why, Miss Basing would have fainted with surprise if she had found Renata anywhere near the top of anything. Or me either,” she added, with reluctant honesty. “Miss Molloy,” said Raymond, “ask Mrs. Cottingham if she will let Lewis know that we are ready;” and as Jane moved away, she continued, “I should have thought her languages now....” Daphne’s mouth fell open. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, “she _must_ have been piling it on. Why, her languages were rotten, absolutely rotten. Why, Mademoiselle said that I was enough to break her heart, but when it came to Renata it was just, ‘Mon dieu!’ the whole time; and then there were rows because Miss Basing thought it was profane. Only, somehow it seems different in French—don’t you think?” Lady Heritage looked at Daphne as though she had some difficulty in thinking about her at all. “I see,” she said gravely, and then Mrs. Cottingham bore down upon them. “Tea should have been ready if I had known,” she said. Her colour had risen, and her voice shook a little. “If I could persuade you ... I’m sure it won’t be more than a moment. But, of course, if you must ... but if I had only known. You see, I thought to myself we would have our talk first, and then enjoy our tea comfortably, and indeed it is _just_ coming in—but, of course, if you are _obliged_ to go....”