Taking four o'clock tea alone with Mrs. Sprowl the afternoon of her return to town--an honour vouchsafed to few--Strelsa was relating, at that masterful woman's request, her various exotic experiences. Mrs. Sprowl had commanded her attendance early. There were reasons. And now partly vexed, partly in unwilling admiration, the old lady sat smiling and all the while thinking to herself impatiently; "Baby! Fool! Little ninny! Imbecile!" while she listened, fat bejewelled hands folded, small green eyes shining in the expanse of powdered and painted fat. After a while she could endure it no longer, and she said with a wheeze of good-natured disdain: "It's like a school-girl's diary--all those rhapsodies over volcanoes, palm trees, and the colour of the Spanish Main. Never mind geography, child; tell me about the men!" "Men?" repeated Strelsa, laughingly--"why there were shoals and shoals of them, of every description!" "I mean the _one_ man?" insisted Mrs. Sprowl encouragingly. "Which, please?" "Nonsense! There _was_ one, I suppose." "Oh, I don't think so.... Your nephew, Langly, was exceedingly amiable----" "He's a plain beast," said his aunt, bluntly. "I didn't mean him." "He was very civil to me," insisted Strelsa, colouring. "Probably he didn't have a chance to be otherwise. He's a rotter, child. Ask anybody. I know perfectly well what he's been up to. I'm sorry you went on the _Yulan_. He had no business to ask you--or any other nice girl--or anybody at all until that Reno scandal is officially made respectable. If it were not for his money--" She stopped a moment, adding cynically--"and if it were not for mine--certain people wouldn't be tolerated anywhere, I suppose.... How did you like Sir Charles?" "Oh, he is charming!" she said warmly. "You like him?" "I almost adore him." "Why not adore him entirely?" [Illustration: "'Never mind geography, child; tell me about the men!'"] Strelsa laughed frankly: "He hasn't asked me to, for one reason. Besides----" "No doubt he'll do it." The girl shook her head, still smiling: "You don't understand at all. There isn't the slightest sentiment between us. He's only thoroughly nice and agreeable, and he and I are most companionable. I hope nobody will be silly enough to hint anything of that sort to him. It would embarrass him dreadfully." Mrs. Sprowl's smile was blandly tolerant: "The man's in love with you. Didn't you know it?" "But you are mistaken, dear Mrs. Sprowl. If it were true I would know it, I think." "Nonsense! He told me so." "Oh," said Strelsa in amazed consternation. She added: "If it _is_ so I'd rather not speak of it, please." Mrs. Sprowl eyed her with shifty but keen intelligence. "Little idiot," she thought; but her smile remained bland and calmly patronising.