'I suppose not.' Peggy's admission sounded rather reluctant. 'Who are the two men?' 'Lord Mervyn and Beaufort Chance.' 'M.P.'s, aren't they?' 'Among other things, Airey. Well, you can't tell her not to come, can you? After that sort of general invitation, you know.' Peggy's tone was satirical; she had rather strong views as to the way in which men made fools of themselves over women--or sometimes said she had. 'I was an old friend of her husband's.' 'Oh, you've nothing to apologise for. When does she want to come?' 'To-morrow. I say, oughtn't I to offer to go and call on her?' 'She'd think that very dull in comparison,' Peggy assured him. 'Let her come and sob out her trouble here.' 'You appear to be taking the matter in a flippant spirit, Peggy.' 'I don't think I'm going to be particularly sorry if Mrs. Trevalla is in a bit of a scrape.' 'You young women are so moral.' 'I don't care,' said Peggy defiantly. 'Women have an extraordinary gift for disliking one another on sight,' mused Airey in an injured voice. 'You seem to have liked Mrs. Trevalla a good deal on sight.' 'She looked so sad, so solitary, a mere girl in her widow's weeds.' His tone grew compassionate, almost tender, as he recalled the forlorn figure which had timidly stolen into the dining-room of the Paris hotel. 'You'll find her a little bit changed perhaps,' Peggy suggested with a suppressed malice that found pleasure in anticipating his feelings. 'Oh, well, she must come anyhow, I suppose.' 'Yes, let her come, Airey. It does these people good to see how the poor live.' Airey laughed, but not very heartily. However, it was well understood that everybody in their circle was very poor, and Peggy felt no qualms about referring to the fact. 'I shall come the next day and hear all about the interview. Fancy these interesting things happening to you! Because, you know, she's rather famous. Mrs. Bonfill has taken her up, and the Glentorlys are devoted to her, and Lady Blixworth has said some of her best things about her. She'll bring you into touch with fashion.' 'Hang fashion!' said Airey. 'I wonder what her difficulty is.' He seemed quite preoccupied with the idea of Mrs. Trevalla's difficulty. 'I see you're going to be very romantic indeed,' laughed Peggy Ryle. His eyes dwelt on her for a moment, and a very friendly expression filled them. 'Don't you get into any difficulties?' he said. 'There's never but one with me,' she laughed; 'and that doesn't hurt, Airey.' There was a loud and cheerful knock on the door. 'Visitors! When people come, how do you account for me?' 'I say nothing. I believe you're taken for my daughter.' 'Not since you trimmed your beard! Well, it doesn't matter, does it? Let him in.' The visitor proved to be nobody to whom Peggy needed to be accounted for; he was Tommy Trent, the smart, trim young man who had danced with her at Mrs. Bonfill's party.