The silver clock in the breakfast-room was striking ten, and Edith was already seated at the coffee-urn, when Jack appeared. She was as fresh as a rose, and greeted him with a bright smile as he came behind her chair and bent over for the morning kiss--a ceremony of affection which, if omitted, would have left a cloud on the day for both of them, and which Jack always declared was simply a necessity, or the coffee would have no flavor. But when a man has picked a rose, it is always a sort of climax which is followed by an awkward moment, and Jack sat down with the air of a man who has another day to get through with. “Were you amused with the dancing--this morning?” “So, so,” said Jack, sipping his coffee. “It was a stunning place for it, that studio; you'd have liked that. The Lamons and Mavick and a lot of people from the provinces were there. The company was more fun than the dance, especially to a fellow who has seen how good it can be and how bad in its home.” “You have a chance to see the Spanish dancer again, under proper auspices,” said Edith, without looking up. “How's that?” “We are invited by Mrs. Brown--” “The mother of the Bible class at St. Philip's?” “Yes--to attend a charity performance for the benefit of the Female Waifs' Refuge. She is to dance.” “Who? Mrs. Brown?” Edith paid no attention to this impertinence. “They are to make an artificial evening at eleven o'clock in the morning.” “They must have got hold of Mavick's notion that this dance is religious in its origin. Do you, know if the exercises will open with prayer?” “Nonsense, Jack. You know I don't intend to go. I shall send a small check.” “Well, draw it mild. But isn't this what I'm accused of doing--shirking my duty of personal service by a contribution?” “Perhaps. But you didn't have any of that shirking feeling last night, did you?” Jack laughed, and ran round to give the only reply possible to such a gibe. These breakfast interludes had not lost piquancy in all these months. “I'm half a mind to go to this thing. I would, if it didn't break up my day so.” “As for instance?” “Well, this morning I have to go up to the riding-school to see a horse--Storm; I want to try him. And then I have to go down to Twist's and see a lot of Japanese drawings he's got over. Do you know that the birds and other animals those beggars have been drawing, which we thought were caricatures, are the real thing? They have eyes sharp enough to see things in motion--flying birds and moving horses which we never caught till we put the camera on them. Awfully curious. Then I shall step into the club a minute, and--” “Be in at lunch? Bess is coming.” “Don't wait lunch. I've a lot to do.”