"Not at all," murmured Savile indistinctly. "Oh, is he really? What a darling! I adore children," said Lady Virginia, benevolently smiling at him. "And _so_ tall for his age, too!" "You don't know his age," snapped Aunt William. "No, I don't; but I can see he's tall--a very fine child. What do you learn at school, darling?" "Oh, nothing much," said Savile, with patience. Lady Virginia laughed inconsequently. "What a clever boy he is! Children _are_ so wonderful nowadays! When Delestin was only six he played all Chopin's Valses and Liszt's Rhapsodies by heart. Of course that's some time ago now, but it shows what boys _can_ do." "By Jove!" said Savile. "Who's your great friend at school, dear?" "Oh--I suppose Sweeny's my _greatest_ pal. He's in the eleven," added Savile explanatorily. "Oh, yes! I daresay--a very nice boy too. He has a marvellous likeness to you, Mary dear," Lady Virginia said, using the long-handled glass, "especially about the--well--the ears--and forehead. Are you musical, my dear?" "I like some of it," said Savile, with a sigh. "You're like James, too," said Lady Virginia, "and I think I see a look of his mother, Mary." "You never saw her, and you know it," said Aunt William, who always tried in vain to pin Virginia down to facts. "Yes, but that was merely by chance," said Lady Virginia, getting into her cloak. "Then I shall expect you, Mary, to come and hear Delestin play? Oh, no, I forgot--you said you couldn't. I'm so sorry; but I _must_ fly.... I've a thousand things to do. You know my busy life! I'm the President of the Young Girls' Typewriting Society, and I have to go and see about it. How we poor women ever get through the season with all the work we do is more than I can ever understand." Aunt William became much more cordial at the prospect of her friend's departure, and when Virginia had at last fluttered out, after dropping the gold bag and the ivory fan twice, Savile said-- "Do you expect _many_ more visitors like that to-day, Aunt William?" "None like that." "Well, while you're alone I've got some news to tell you. Sylvia would have come herself, but she's engaged--this afternoon." "Not engaged to be married, I suppose!" said Aunt William, with a sort of triumphal archness. "Yes, you've hit it in once. At least, up to a certain point. It'll be all right. But the Governor's a bit nasty--and the fact is, we want you to come and see him, and sort of talk him over, you know." "Savile! Do you mean it? How charming!... But who's the young man--and what's the objection?" Savile thought a moment, and remembered her tinge of snobbishness. "He's Sir Bryce Woodville's nephew. Chap who died. I mean, the uncle died. It's Woodville, _you_ know!" "Your father's secretary?"