They quarrelled, drifted away from the point, swept Triona into a laughing argument on she knew not what. All she knew was that these two men were giving her the best of themselves; these two picked men of thought and action; that they were eager to interest her, to catch her word of approval; that some dancing thing within her brain played on their personalities and kept them at concert pitch. She was conscious of a new joy, a new sense of power, when the door opened and Myra showed in Lydia Dawlish. She entered, enveloped in an atmosphere of furs and creamy worldliness. Aware of the effect of implicit scorn of snobbery, she besought Olifant for news of Medlow, dear Sleepy Hollow, which she had not seen for years. Had he come across her beloved eccentric of a father—old John Freke? Olifant gave her the best of news. He had lately joined the committee of the local hospital, of which Mr. Freke was Chairman; professed admiration for John Freke’s exceptional gifts. “If he had gone out into the world, he might have been a great man,” said Lydia. “He _is_ a great man,” replied Olifant. “What’s the good of being great in an overlooked chunk of the Stone Age like Medlow?” She spoke with her lazy vivacity, obviously, to Olivia’s observant eye, seeking to establish herself with the two men. But the spell of the afternoon was broken. As soon as politeness allowed, Olifant and Triona took their leave. Had it not been for Lydia they would have stayed on indefinitely, forgetful of time, showing unconscious, and thereby all the more flattering, homage to their hostess. In a mild way she anathematized Lydia; but found a compensating tickle of pleasure in the lady’s failure to captivate. To Olifant she said: “Now that you know where your landlady lives, I hope you won’t go on neglecting her.” But she waited for Triona to say: “Shall I ever have the pleasure of seeing you again?” “It all depends whether you can be communicated with,” she replied. “Alexis Triona, Esq., Planet Earth, Solar System, is an imposing address; but it might puzzle the General Post Office.” “The Vanloo Hotel, South Kensington, is very much more modest.” “It’s well for people to know where they can find one another,” said Olivia. “That you should do me the honour of the slightest thought of finding me——” he began. “We’ll fix up something soon,” Lydia interrupted. “I’m Miss Gale’s elderly, adopted aunt.” Olivia felt a momentary shock, as though a tiny bolt of ice had passed through her. She sped a puzzled glance at a Lydia blandly unconscious of wrong-doing. “I shall be delighted,” said Triona politely. When the door had closed behind the two— “What nice men,” said Lydia.