This made her laugh, so that as she held on to his arm she approached Adelaide Maud in admirable spirits. The party invaded the drawing-room as a flood would invade it--or so it seemed to the Dudgeons, who were talking quietly to Mrs. Leighton. The whole room sprouted Leightons. Mrs. Dudgeon resorted entirely to her lorgnette, especially when she shook hands with Cuthbert. He stood that ordeal bravely, also the ordeal of the speech that followed. "You see the two very shy members of the family," he said, bowing gravely and disregarding some sarcastic laughter from the background. "May I introduce my young sister Elma." Here was honour for Elma. She shook hands with crimson cheeks. Then came Adelaide Maud. She gave her hand to Cuthbert without a word, but when Elma’s turn came she said with rather sweet gravity, "This is the little lady, isn’t it, who plays to Miss Grace?" Elma was thunderstruck; but Cuthbert, the magnificent, seemed very pleased. "Oh--Miss Grace didn’t tell you?" asked Elma. "No, I heard you one day, and Miss Annie told me it was you." Adelaide Maud sat down on a low chair, and drew Elma on to the arm. "What was it you were playing?" she asked. "One is called ’Anything you like,’ and one is ’A little thing of my own,’ and the others are just anything," said Elma. Adelaide Maud laughed. The room was filled with chattering voices, and Mrs. Dudgeon had claimed Cuthbert, so that it became a very easy thing for them to be confidential without any one’s noticing. "It’s quite stup--stup----" Elma stopped. "Stupid?" asked Adelaide Maud. "No, stup-endous," said Elma thankfully, "for me to be talking all alone with you." Her fright had run away, as it always did whenever any one looked kindly at her. The sweet eyes of Adelaide Maud disarmed her, and she worshipped on the spot. "I’ve always been so afraid of you," she said simply. "It ought to be Hermione, but I know it will always be you." "Who is Hermione?" asked Adelaide Maud. Elma suddenly woke up. "Oh, I daren’t tell you," said she. Adelaide Maud looked about her in a constrained way. "I wish you would play to me, dear," she said. Was this really to be believed! "I could in the schoolroom," said Elma, "but not here." "Take me to the schoolroom," said Adelaide Maud. Elma placed her hand in that of the other delicately gloved one without a tremor. "Don’t let them see us go," she begged. Three people did, however: Cuthbert with a bounding heart, Mabel with thankfulness that the house was really in exhibition order, and Jean with blank amazement. Elma had walked off in ten minutes intimately with the flower that Jean had, as it were, been tending carefully for weeks, and had not dared to pluck. There was something of the dark horse about Elma.