'When you congratulate me, Viola,' she said, 'I generally expect to hear that something has gone wrong.' 'Oh, you believe what you're told about me,' the accused lady murmured plaintively. 'It's experience,' persisted Mrs. Bonfill. 'Have you anything that you think I sha'n't like to tell me about Trix Trevalla?' 'I don't suppose you'll dislike it, but I should. Need she drive in the park with Mrs. Fricker?' Her smile contradicted the regret of her tone, as she spread her hands out in affected surprise and appeal. 'Mrs. Fricker's a very decent sort of woman, Viola. You have a prejudice against her.' 'Yes, thank heaven! We all want money nowadays, but for my part I'd starve sooner than get it from the Frickers.' 'Oh, that's what you want me to believe?' 'Dearest Sarah, no! That's what I'm afraid her enemies and yours will say.' 'I see,' smiled Mrs. Bonfill indulgently. She always acknowledged that Viola was neat--as a siege-gun might admit it of the field artillery. 'Couldn't you give her a hint? The gossip about Beaufort Chance doesn't so much matter, but----' Lady Blixworth looked as if she expected to be interrupted, even pausing an instant to allow the opportunity. Mrs. Bonfill obliged her. 'There's gossip about Beaufort, is there?' 'Oh, there is, of course--that can't be denied; but it really doesn't matter as long as Mortimer doesn't hear about it.' 'Was there never more than one aspirant at a time when you were young?' 'As long as you're content, I am,' Lady Blixworth declared in an injured manner. 'It's not my business what Mrs. Trevalla does.' 'Don't be huffy,' was Mrs. Bonfill's maternal advice. 'As far as I can see, everything is going splendidly.' 'It is to be Mortimer?' 'How can I tell, my dear? If Mortimer Mervyn should ask my advice, which really isn't likely, what could I say except that Trix is a charming woman, and that I know of nothing against it?' 'She must be very well off, by the way she does things.' There was an inflection of question in her voice, but no direct interrogatory. 'Doubtless,' said Mrs. Bonfill. Often the craftiest suggestions failed in face of her broad imperturbability. Lady Blixworth smiled at her. Mrs. Bonfill shook her head in benign rebuke. The two understood one another, and on the whole liked one another very well. 'All right, Sarah,' said Lady Blixworth; 'but if you want my opinion, it is that she's out-running the constable, unless----' 'Well, go on.' 'You give me leave? You won't order me out? Well, unless---- Well, as I said, why drive Mrs. Fricker round the Park? Why take Connie Fricker to the Quinby-Lees's dance?' 'Oh, everybody goes to the Quinby-Lees's. She's never offered to bring them here or anywhere that matters.' 'You know the difference; perhaps the Frickers don't.' 'That's downright malicious, Viola. And of course they do; at least they live to find it out. No, you can't put me out of conceit with Trix Trevalla.'