He had almost the air, as he waited for her to go, of the master of the house, for she had made herself before him, as he stood with his back to the fire, as humble as a tolerated visitor. “Oh just as much. Where’s the difference? Aren’t our ties in fact rather multiplied?” “That’s the way _I_ want to feel it. And from the moment you recognise with me--” “Yes?” “Well, that he never, you know, really WOULD--” He took her mercifully up. “There’s no harm done?” Mitchy thought of it. It made her still hover. “Nanda will be rich. Toward that you CAN help, and it’s really, I may now tell you, what it came into my head you should see our friend here FOR.” He maintained his waiting attitude. “Thanks, thanks.” “You’re our guardian angel!” she exclaimed. At this he laughed out. “Wait till you see what Mr. Longdon does!” But she took no notice. “I want you to see before I go that I’ve done nothing for myself. Van, after all--!” she mused. “Well?” “Only hates me. It isn’t as with you,” she said. “I’ve really lost him.” Mitchy for an instant, with the eyes that had shown his tears, glared away into space. “He can’t very positively, you know, now like ANY of us. He misses a fortune.” “There it is!” Mrs. Brook once more observed. Then she had a comparative brightness. “I’m so glad YOU don’t!” He gave another laugh, but she was already facing Mr. Tatton, who had again answered the bell. “Show Mr. Longdon up.” “I’m to tell him then it’s at your request?” Mitchy asked when the butler had gone. “That you receive him? Oh yes. He’ll be the last to quarrel with that. But there’s one more thing.” It was something over which of a sudden she had one of her returns of anxiety. “I’ve been trying for months and months to remember to find out from you--” “Well, what?” he enquired, as she looked odd. “Why if Harold ever gave back to you, as he swore to me on his honour he would, that five-pound note--!” “But which, dear lady?” The sense of other incongruities than those they had been dealing with seemed to arrive now for Mitchy’s aid. “The one that, ages ago, one day when you and Van were here, we had the joke about. You produced it, in sport, as a ‘fine’ for something, and put it on that table; after which, before I knew what you were about, before I could run after you, you had gone off and ridiculously left it. Of course the next minute--and again before I could turn round--Harold had pounced on it, and I tried in vain to recover it from him. But all I could get him to do--” “Was to promise to restore it straight to its owner?” Mitchy had listened so much less in surprise than in amusement that he had apparently after a moment re-established the scene. “Oh I recollect--he did settle with me. THAT’S all right.” She fixed him from the door of the next room. “You got every penny?” “Every penny. But fancy your bringing it up!” “Ah I always do, you know--SOME day.”