The _bouton de rose_ was in waiting at the foot of the stairs as I came down. Through the hall and the dining-room he ushered me royally; but as I came out on the breakfast loggia my royalty stopped with what I can only describe as a bump. The guests had gone, but the family remained. The last phase of the details of the rite were also on the table. All the doilies were there, and the magnificent lace centerpiece which Mrs. Rossiter had at various times called on me to admire. The old Spode dessert service was the more dimly, anciently brilliant because of the old polished oak, and so were the glasses and finger-bowls picked out in gold. Mr. Brokenshire, whom I had seen from my window strolling with some ladies on the lawn, had returned to the foot of the table, opposite to the door by which I came out, where he now sat in a careless, sidewise attitude, fingering his cigar. Old Mrs. Billing, who was beside him on his right, put up her lorgnette immediately I appeared in the entrance. Mrs. Rossiter had dropped into a chance chair half-way down the table on the left; but Mrs. Brokenshire, oddly enough, was in that same seat in the far corner to which she had retreated on the occasion of my summoning ten days before. I wondered whether this was by intention or by chance, though I was presently to know. Terrified though I was, I felt salvation to lie in keeping a certain dignity. I made, therefore, something between a bow and a courtesy, first to Mr. Brokenshire, then to Mrs. Billing, then to Mrs. Rossiter, and lastly to Mrs. Brokenshire, to whom I raised my eyes and looked all the way diagonally across the loggia. I took my time in making these four distinct salutations, though in response I was only stared at. After that there was a space of some seconds in which I merely stood, in my pose of _Ecce Femina_! "Sit down!" The command came, of course, from J. Howard. The chair to which I had once before been banished being still in its corner, I slipped into it. "I wished to speak to you, Miss--a--Miss--" He glanced helplessly toward his daughter, who supplied the name. "Ah yes. I wished to speak to you, Miss Adare, because my son has been acting very foolishly." I made my tone as meek as I could, scarcely daring to lift my eyes from the floor. "Wouldn't it be well, sir, to talk to him about that?" Mrs. Billing's lorgnette came down. She glanced toward her son-in-law as though finding the point well taken. He went on imperturbably. "I've said all I mean to say to him. My present appeal is to you." "Oh, then this is an--appeal?" He seemed to hesitate, to reflect. "If you choose to take it so," he admitted, stiffly. "It surely isn't as I choose to take it, sir; it's as you choose to mean." "Don't bandy words." "But I must use words, sir. I only want to be sure that you're making an appeal to me, and not giving me commands."