“No, John,” he argued. “This term must end in glowing magnificence--benedictionally--come what may. Life, as they say at Brasenose, must burn with a hard gem-like flame. Besides, it’s an Ember day.” And John was persuaded to distribute the invitations in Keble. It was a lunch party. Gaveston spared no pains in arranging the function; and they were needed, for it had to make its appeal to the divergent tastes of all his guests. Six of them were to come on from the Blessing of the Embers at the newly consecrated Uniate Orthodox chapel, affiliated to the mother-church of SS. Protus and Hyacinth, and the remaining half-dozen were to join the party after a breakfast-dance (domino or _poudré_ optional) at the Carlton Club. Gav himself compromised by attending Wallace chapel, but, a scrupulous host, he could not trust the Wallace buttery to provide the viands for such a party. He went in person to Buol’s to order a collation. “For one o’clock exactly,” he insisted to the astonished caterer. “And remember--the Byzantine touch in everything.” The famous Swiss remembered. That luncheon was the talk of Oxford for many a day. It deserved its fame. The _décor_ of Gaveston’s room, of course, was a technical masterpiece that an S. Diaghilev or a B. Dean might well have envied. The richly figured curtains were closely drawn. The air was pregnant with frankincense and chypre. The apartment was delicately illuminated, partly by a score of nightlights floating in tall Venetian glasses abrim with many-hued liqueurs, partly too by the votive tapers that always burned before Gav’s private altar of St. Symphorosa and his veiled image of Astarte Mammifera of the Kabbalists. “Wear which you like!” said the charming host to his arriving guests, giving them their choice of kimono or cowl. Some chose one, others the other, but his forethought was appreciated by all. So too was the rich repast. And when its seven finely modulated courses were over, Gaveston handed round an exquisite pouncet-box of rather late Sienese design. Pointing to the two divisions of its elegant interior, he offered his happy guests their choice. “Caramels or _coco_?” he asked with a hospitable gesture, and soon the party was in the fullest swing.