The stilted reply did not seem to offend the elderly gentleman, for he bowed very gallantly and tapped the lid of his snuff-box with an air. "And my nephew, ma'am, what does Curtain Wells think of my nephew?" Luckily for Phyllida who was racking her brains to devize a polite method of informing Sir George Repington that his nephew had offended the whole world, that is to say the whole world known to the residents and visitors of Curtain Wells, Mrs. Tabrum came back to say that a pair of fowls were on their way. "A morsel of cheese is all that I require, thank'ee," said Sir George to this information. "A morsel of cheese, well-aired sheets and----" "A bit off the breast," murmured Mrs. Tabrum coaxingly. "Well-aired sheets and----" "A grilled drumstick," insinuated the landlady. "Well-aired sheets and----" "The liver wing." Sir George Repington capitulated and sat down to supper with Phyllida opposite and a great bowl of daffadillies between them. Nobody ever found out what exactly was the elderly gentleman's unspoken requirement. Sir George was enjoying himself--a very unusual occupation for that grim and solid man of business. Phyllida, on the contrary, was becoming more deeply embarrassed every moment. She could not help picturing to herself the awkwardness of greeting her dear Amor in the presence of such a man. Moreover, she could not understand why the latter preserved such a lack of curiosity. She, a heroine to herself, was unable to appreciate the point of view that took her and her adventure for granted. She almost resented Sir George's acceptation of her as part of the furniture of a wayside inn. As a matter of fact, the banker was abroad to enjoy himself, and the discovery of a maid sitting solitary in the firelight of an inn parlour only struck him as whimsical in so far as she resembled his dead sister. Having, after a lapse of many grey years, put on once more the mantle of youth, he was very ready to welcome a face that consorted so perfectly with his mood.