"Not to-morrow--Thursday," said Vera, thinking she would not have time to get a new dress. So he was coming to-morrow. Perhaps he would give her some new philosophy of life. He would make the riddle of existence clear. He had bright and beautiful eyes, but--and here came in Vera's weakness--she could not make up her mind even to fall in love without some comment of Felicity's. Supposing Felicity said it was charming and just the right thing for her, how delightful that would be! On the other hand, she might make one of those terrible enlightening little remarks that smashed up all illusions and practically spoilt the fun. How right she had been about Bobby! "_Not worth worrying about._" How right about many other people! Then Felicity now settled nothing (with regard to people) without consulting Bertie. Instead of taking a person just as he appeared as Vera did, "Charming man, most cultured--I'm sure you'll like him," as the hostess, Mrs. Dorfenstein, had said, Bertie would know everything about him--who his father and mother were, why he happened to be at the German lunch, his profession, his favourite hobbies, what was his usual method, and a hundred other things likely to prevent any sort of surprises. Really, Felicity and Bertie together were a rather formidable couple of psychologists. Felicity often amused herself by experimenting on the people that Bertie had discovered. What Vera feared more than anything else was that Mr. Newman Ferguson would be pronounced a very simple case. When she came home from her drive she saw a letter--a new handwriting, which she instinctively felt certain was from Mr. Ferguson. Therefore, although she was alone, she put it in her muff, went and locked herself into her room, and began to read it. The first thing that struck her was the remarkably beautiful, carefully formed handwriting, and the immense length of the letter. Pink with joy and excitement, her hat and furs still on, she read-- "_My dear Mrs. Ogilvie, ... Ships that pass in the night.... Friends signalling.... Elective affinities._" ... "Oh, good gracious!" She glanced hastily at the signature. "_Strange as it may seem, I am now and for all time your devoted slave, Newman Ferguson._" * * * * * At last Vera's wish had been granted; some one had really fallen in love with her. But she had not patience to read the letter through. Her friend's counsel was necessary instantly. She flew to the telephone. "Felicity!--Oh, there you are!... I meant not to tell you, but something _so_ exciting has happened.... Yesterday at the German lunch ... a wonderful person.... His name?--Newman Ferguson.... Have you ever heard of him?... You'll find out all about him from Bertie.... Thanks.... Couldn't I see you to-day? Very well, then, ring me up if you have any news.... Keep calm indeed! I _am_ keeping calm!" Mr. Ogilvie's knock was heard. Vera hid the letter and went downstairs.