“It is absolutely necessary that I should be in town on the days I referred to,” he said. “I have asked you----” “To postpone the wedding?” said Mrs. Cathcart. “My dear boy, I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t a reasonable request, now was it?” She smiled at him as sweetly as her inward annoyance allowed her. “I suppose it wasn’t,” he said dubiously. He said no more, but waited until the door had closed behind her, then he turned quickly to the girl. “Edith,” he said, speaking rapidly, “I want you to do something for me.” “You want me to do something?” she asked in surprise. “Yes, dearest. I must go away now. I want you to find some excuse to make to your mother. I’ve remembered a most important matter which I have not seen to----” He spoke hesitatingly, for he was no ready liar. “Going away!” It was surprise rather than disappointment, he noticed, and was pardonably irritated. “You can’t go now,” she said, and that look of fear came into her eyes. “Mother would be so angry. The people are arriving.” From where he stood he had seen three motor broughams draw up almost simultaneously in front of the house. “I must go,” he said desperately. “Can’t you get me out in any way? I don’t want to meet these people, I’ve very good reasons.” She hesitated a moment. “Where are your hat and coat?” she asked. “In the hall--you will just have time,” he said. She was in the hall and back again with his coat, led him to the farther end of the drawing-room, through a door which communicated with the small library beyond. There was a way here to the garage and to the mews at the back of the house. She watched the tall, striding figure with a troubled gaze, then as he disappeared from view she fastened the library door and came back to the drawing-room in time to meet her mother. “Where is Gilbert?” asked Mrs. Cathcart. “Gone,” said the girl. “Gone!” Edith nodded slowly. “He remembered something very important and had to go back to his house.” “But of course he is returning?” “I don’t think so, mother,” she said quietly. “I fancy that the ‘something’ is immensely pressing.” “But this is nonsense!” Mrs. Cathcart stamped her foot. “Here are all the people whom I have specially invited to meet him. It’s disgraceful!” “But, mother----” “Don’t ‘but mother’ me, for God’s sake!” said Mrs. Cathcart. They were alone, the guests were assembling in the larger drawing-room, and there was no need for the elder woman to disguise her feelings. “You sent him away, I suppose?” she said. “I don’t blame him. How can you expect to keep a man at your side if you treat him as though he were a grocer calling for orders?” The girl listened wearily, and did not raise her eyes from the carpet. “I do my best,” she said in a low voice.