"Hasn't he a Show Sunday of his own?" replied Gertrude, in a voice that implied that the wish was father to the thought. "He has a gallery all to himself in Bond Street this season. I wonder if he will sing this afternoon." "Mr. Darrell is a person of many accomplishments it seems." "Oh, rather!" and Frank went off to offer a pleased and modest welcome to the illustrious guest. Sidney Darrell, having succeeded in escaping from the Oakleys and their tea-table, made his way across the room, stopping here and there to exchange greetings with the people that he knew, and moving with that ostentatious air of lack of purpose which is so often assumed in society to mask a set and deliberate plan. "How do you do, Miss Lorimer?" He stopped in front of Phyllis and held out his hand. Phyllis's flower-face brightened at this recognition from the great man. "Now, don't you think this is the most ridiculous institution on the face of the earth?" said Darrell, as he took his place beside her, for Conny had moved off discreetly at his approach. "Which institution? Tea, pictures, people?" "Their incongruous combination under the name of Show Sunday." "Oh, I think it's fun. But then I have never seen the sort of thing before." "You are greatly to be envied, Miss Lorimer." "How lovely Phyllis is looking," cried Conny, who had joined Gertrude near the doorway; "she grows prettier every day." "Do you think so?" answered Gertrude. "She looks to me more delicate than ever, with that flush on her cheek, and that shining in her eyes." "Nonsense, Gerty; you are quite ridiculous about Phyllis. She appears to be amusing Mr. Darrell, at any rate. She says just the sort of things Mr. Lorimer used to. She is more like him than any of you." "Yes." Gertrude winced; then, looking up, saw Mr. Oakley and a tall man standing before her. "Lord Watergate, Miss Lorimer." The grey eyes looked straight into hers, and a deep voice said-- "We have met before. But I scarcely ventured to regard myself as introduced to you." Lord Watergate smiled as he spoke, and, with a sense of relief, Gertrude felt that here, at least, was a friendly presence. "I met you at The Sycamores on Wednesday." "If it could be called a meeting. That's a wonderful picture of Darrell's." "Yes." "Oakley has been telling me about the great success in photography of you and your sisters." "I don't know about success!" Gertrude laughed. "You look so tired, Miss Lorimer; let me find you a seat." "No, thank you; I prefer to stand. One sees the world so much better." "Ah, you like to see the world?" "Yes; it is always interesting." "It is to be assumed that you are fond of society?" "Does one follow from the other?" "No; I merely hazarded the question." "One demands so much more of a game in which one is taking part," said Gertrude; "and with social intercourse, one is always thinking how much better managed it might be." They both laughed.