OLIVE. Just to make his acquaintance? MRS. CLOYS. [_Steadily._] Just to make his acquaintance. JOHN. [_Uncomfortably._] Very pleased—very gratified—— OLIVE. [_With a hard smile._] This is rather an odd hour for such a call. MRS. CLOYS. It would have been earlier but for a little difficulty in discovering Mr. Allingham’s whereabouts. SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. [_Genially._] When ladies have fancies they don’t study the hour before indulging them. OLIVE. I am afraid it _is_ so, in your family, Sir Fletcher. [MRS. CLOYS _makes a movement, but restrains herself_. JOHN. [_In a low voice._] Olive——! SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. Er—the fact is, my sister shares with me the Lavater-like faculty for judging character at sight. OLIVE. Judging character by face, manner? SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. Yes. I possess it in a remarkable degree. I remember—— OLIVE. [_To_ MRS. CLOYS.] Oh, I see! You are here to—to form an impression of Mr. Allingham? MRS. CLOYS. Sir Fletcher a little exaggerates my powers; but I confess I am, like many people, very sensitive to receiving impressions through such mediums. OLIVE. I hope your impressions of my husband will be to his advantage. MRS. CLOYS. [_Looking at_ JOHN.] I think I may say at once that they are not unfavourable. OLIVE. Because the necessity you find for estimating my husband’s character shows—you know what it shows? MRS. CLOYS. Mrs. Allingham——? OLIVE. It shows, obviously, that if you are uncertain as to my husband’s innocence, you must be equally doubtful of the innocence of your niece, Mrs. Fraser. MRS. CLOYS. [_Rising._] I—I beg that you will not put such a construction on what I have said—— OLIVE. [_Rising._] What other construction——? JOHN. Olive, you are not keeping your promise—— OLIVE. [_Passionately._] I will keep my promise when I am treated openly and fairly. [_Walking away._] I feel something is going on here that I don’t understand, that I am not allowed to understand. JOHN. [_To_ MRS. CLOYS _and_ SIR FLETCHER.] I am extremely sorry. But my wife is very fatigued and unstrung to-night—— SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. Quite so, quite so. We are most inconsiderate, Harriet. Come—come; another time—— OLIVE.