"Yes, I remember. You were very kind, and I am still so much under the influence of the old life that I do feel you might be a comfort; but no doubt, after some more months of school-mistressing, I shall resent the idea that a man could do any more than I could myself. So it's a case of soon or never. You will hardly be cruel enough to wish to hasten my extremity!" "I'm not so sure about that, if I could have the satisfaction of putting things to rights!" It was while she was smiling her acknowledgment of this pretty speech that Claire became conscious of Janet Willoughby's eyes bent searchingly upon her. She had entered the room on the arm of her supper partner, and came to a pause not a yard away from the table where a very animated, apparently very intimate conversation was taking place between the son of her old friend and the girl to whom she had believed him to be unknown. As she met Claire's glance, Janet smiled automatically, but the friendliness was gone from her glance. The next moment Captain Fanshawe, had turned, seen her, and sprung to his feet. "Janet! Are you waiting for a table? We have nearly finished. Won't you sit down and talk to Miss Gifford?" "Oh, please don't hurry... We'll find another place. You have met before, then? I didn't know." "I saw Miss Gifford when she was befriending my mother at Liverpool Street Station, and recognised her upstairs just now. Do sit down, Janet. You look tired." Janet Willoughby took the offered chair and exchanged a few words with Claire as she gathered together her possessions, but the subtle change persisted. Claire felt vaguely disturbed, but the next half-hour passed so pleasantly that she had no time to puzzle over the explanation. Captain Fanshawe never left her side; they sat together on the same sofa which Great-aunt Jane had monopolised for the earlier part of the evening, and talked of many things, and discussed many problems, and sometimes agreed, and oftener disagreed, and when they disagreed most widely, looked into each other's eyes and smiled, as who should say, "What do words matter? We understand!" At one o'clock Claire rose to depart, and said her adieu to her hostess and her daughter, who were standing side by side. "My dear, it is too bad. I have had _no_ time with you, and I am so grateful for the charming way in which you came to the rescue! We shall hope to see you often again. Shan't we, Janet? You girls must arrange a day which suits you both." "Oh, yes, we must!" Janet said, as she shook hands, but she made no attempt to make the arrangement there and then, as her mother obviously expected, and Claire realised, with a sinking of the heart, that a promised friendship had received a check.