"They are lovely," she said. "I am filled with envy, though I have some perfect orchids of my own. Miss Lyne, won’t you come and worship at the shrine of Flora?" Isa Benstein raised her voice in the hope that Angela might be near. It was a sort of danger signal and might prove efficacious. The next moment Angela walked in. She understood perfectly, but she made no sign. Just for a moment Frobisher’s eyes flashed like electric points. "I don’t care for orchids," Angela said. "There is something uncanny about them." "Not all," said Mrs. Benstein, as she bent and broke off a spray of deep blue blossom. Frobisher winced as if somebody had struck him a painful blow. "Look at these blooms; they are sweet and tender enough. Count Lefroy, I want you to arrange this spray in Miss Lyne’s hair. You can reach better than I can, and I can trust your taste. Place this flat under the coil at the side." Angela made no demur, though she would far rather have done it herself. Lefroy did his work gracefully enough and stepped back to admire the effect, as did Isa Benstein. Frobisher, still snarling for the loss of his beloved flowers, looked on with his teeth bared in an uneasy grin. "Perfect!" Mrs. Benstein cried, as if she had only one thought in her mind. "All this evening I have been racking my brains to know what little final touch was lacking. I beg of you as a personal favour not to remove those flowers till you go to bed. Now will you promise me?" Angela gave the promise lightly enough. Lefroy drew Frobisher a little on one side. "We are wasting valuable time," he growled. "Get rid of that girl." "One moment. Her presence here is quite an accident. Our fair friend has no suspicion. I shall find a good pretext to get rid of Angela in a moment. Yes, it is a fine flower and quite unique." The last few words were spoken aloud. But if Lefroy had seized his chance for a word with Frobisher, Isa Benstein had not lost her opportunity. "I am going to make a remark," she said, "though I only dare to give you a hint. Sir Clement has ears like a hare. When I speak you are to give a laugh as if I had made a brilliant joke. You are quite sure neither of these men are really listening to us?" "I think you can venture to go on," Angela murmured. "I am quite ready to laugh." She broke out into a rippling, amused smile as Mrs. Benstein slightly bent her head and said: "Be sure that you take down and brush out your hair to-night!" *CHAPTER XX.* *CHECK TO FROBISHER.*