"Look here, Elma," said Mabel sedately, "if you don’t sit down and keep yourself quiet, I shall get Dr. Merryweather to come." "If he has time," said Isobel drily. "Time?" asked Mabel. "Yes, before he gets married to Miss Grace." That bomb burst itself to silence in the most complete pause that had fallen on the Leighton family for a long time. They began to collect their scattered senses with difficulty. Elma thought, "Mr. Symington in the drawing-room and Miss Grace going to be married! Am I alive or dead?" "Didn’t you notice?" said Isobel’s calm voice. "Haven’t you seen that Dr. Merryweather’s heart is with Miss Grace? You could tell that from the colour of his gloves. Lemon yellow ever since Miss Annie died." "Oh, Isobel," said Mabel gravely. Elma remembered her asking, "And Miss Grace, this man, was he----" and Saunders opening the door and announcing, "Dr. Merryweather." Was this something more than a coincidence, and was Isobel right? Surely Miss Grace would have let her know. Then the certainty that Miss Grace would far more easily let an alien like Isobel know, by reason of her own embarrassment, than a friend like Elma through frank and easy confidence, began to convince her. She heard the gate sing its little song of warning again at that moment. Miss Meredith tripped in. Miss Meredith! Elma put her head out at the open window. "Oh, Miss Meredith, do come upstairs, we’ve such a lot to show you." Sarah came safely up. (Oh the relief!) What if she met Mr. Symington, and this new castle of cards came tumbling down to more interference from that quarter. Besides, they were soon going to tea, and Mabel was still unwarned. Elma discreetly hoped that Mabel would not faint. As for herself, her shakiness seemed gone for ever. She was a lion, defending Mabel. Miss Meredith floated about the room. "Perfectly sweet," she said one minute, and "Isn’t it a dream?" the next. (What was Mr. Symington saying in the drawing-room?) It came alarmingly near tea-time. Elma made everybody prink up a little. "We are all such frights," she said, "and there’s some old johnny with papa in the drawing-room." "I do believe you know who it is," said Betty, "and won’t tell us." She was in a suspicious mood with society in general. "I do," said Elma simply. "It’s Mr. Symington." Mabel did not faint. She was providentially with her back to the others, packing a tulle dress in tissue paper just then, and one has to be very particular with tulle. She was quite collected and calm when she finished. Miss Meredith was the colour of the Liberty green screen behind her. Her energy did not fail her in this crisis however. "Why, it’s nice Mr. Symington comes back," she said. "Is he coming to the wedding?" "He is," said Elma. "He was my ’particular.’ I asked Isobel if I might invite him." "Who is he anyway?" asked Isobel, patting her hair gently in front of a mirror.