Even the arrival of Lady Condor, undoubtedly the personage of the place, made no impression on this strange couple’s evident conviction that they were people of supreme importance in the universe. Lady Condor could have put the Old Gentleman himself in his place if the mood were on her, but on this occasion, as it happened, she was frankly and evidently entertained by the Pitheys. Mr. Fothersley regretted it. Seldom had he looked out more anxiously for the arrival of her wheeled chair surrounded by its usual escort of five white West Highlanders. Lady Condor always used her chair, in preference to her car, for short journeys, so that her dogs also might have an outing. Seldom had he been more disappointed in her, and Lady Condor was given to amazing surprises. This was certainly one of them. Solemnly, and as far as was possible in his manner conveying the honour being conferred on him, Mr. Fothersley led Mr. Pithey to Lady Condor’s chair, so soon as she had been ensconced by her hostess in a comfortable and shady spot near the tea-tables and with a good view of the tennis. Not that she ever looked at it for more than a second at a time, she was always too busy talking, but it was _de rigueur_ that she should have the best place at any entertainment. Mrs. Pithey, for the moment, it was impossible to introduce, as it would plainly not occur to her to leave her chair until she had finished her tea for anybody, except, possibly, Mr. Pithey. Mr. Fothersley effected Mr. Pithey’s introduction admirably. The delicate shade of deference in his own manner left nothing to be desired. “May I be allowed to present Mr. Pithey, dear Lady Condor?” he asked, deftly bringing that gentleman’s large pale presence into her line of vision. “Ah—how-d’ye-do? No, don’t trouble to shake hands.” She waved away a large approach. “You can’t get at me for the dogs. And where are my glasses? Arthur, I have dropped them somewhere. Could it have been in the drive? No, I had them since. What! on my lap? Oh yes—thank you very much.” She put them on and looked at Mr. Pithey, and Mr. Pithey looked at her. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Do you always take a pack of dogs about with you?” Plainly Mr. Pithey disapproved. Jock and Jinny, father and mother of the family, were moving in an unfriendly manner round his feet. “Just call them off, will you?” Mr. Fothersley awaited the swift and complete annihilation of Mr. Pithey. It was a matter of doubt if even Lady Condor could have accomplished it; at any rate, she made no attempt. She continued to look at him with what might almost be described as appreciation in her shrewd eyes under their heavy lids. Only she did not call the dogs off. And then, to an amazed company of the Mentmore élite, she gave Mr. Pithey her whole and undivided attention for the space of nearly half an hour. Mr. Pithey gave his opinion as it was always apparently his pride and pleasure to do, on many and various things.