Meantime, the days flew past, and at length the momentous one arrived on which Mr. and Mrs. Forster were to appear at the Countess’s house at Barnes. Forster went to the City as usual, but promised to return early; he was detained, however, so that when he reached home he found his wife already arrayed for the night. He looked at her, then gently kissed her. ‘Madeline, my dear,’ he said, ‘I never saw you look more lovely’: then he added quietly--‘Should you mind very much, my love, if I stayed at home to-night?’ ‘Stayed at home?’ ‘Yes, I have had one of my nervous headaches all day, and I don’t feel equal to facing the Countess’s crowded rooms.’ ‘Then you shall remain at home, and I will remain with you.’ ‘Not so, my love: you must go, and Margaret shall accompany you.’ ‘But I would rather stay.’ ‘Nonsense, Madeline. If you talk like that I shall go, and punish you for your perversity by being more than usually disagreeable.’ So it was settled, the carriage was ordered, and Madeline drove down to Barnes with Miss Forster by her side. The gathering, as we have said, was always numerous, but this time it seemed of greater importance than ever. The street on the river side was so blocked with carriages that some time elapsed before Forster’s brougham could pull up at the door, and when at length it did, and the ladies passed over the carpeted pavement into the hall, they found themselves in so dense a throng that it was with difficulty they made their way along at all. At length, however, they reached the top of the crowded staircase, at the door of a crowded room. Here Madeline paused; her eyes, lately accustomed to the darkness, were dazzled by the brilliant glare of light which met them, so that at first she could find out nothing very distinctly; in a moment, however, the feeling of confusion passed away, and with one swift glance she took in the scene. In a suite of lofty rooms running from one to another, like a picture gallery, and almost as thickly covered with works of art, were ladies and gentlemen of all shapes and ages, the majority of the ladies clad in what is now known as the aesthetic, or high-waisted, style, and the greater number of the gentlemen resembling one another in a certain limp and flaccid self-consciousness of attitude. Scattered here and there, as a sort of leaven, were swarthy artists, with beards, spectacled _savants_ and scientists, stout literary ladies, and acidulous lady members of the London School Board. It was, indeed, a scene too familiar to need much describing. The chatter was deafening, reminding an irreverent spectator of the noise in the monkey-house at the Zoological Gardens. While Madeline and Miss Forster stood hesitating within the threshold of the room, they were espied from a distance by Serena, who immediately made his way over to them, and forthwith, in the manner of one having authority, led them to the lady of the house.