"Yes," said Savile dryly. He did not approve of this direct method of ascertaining what one wants to know. He would confide, but never answered questions. She accepted the hint, but would not acknowledge it. "Ah, I see!" she said knowingly (wishing she did). "Well, if you must go, you must!" "Yes, Aunt William." "But before you go, about that party ... I'm coming, of course. In fact, I'm having my peach brocade done up. Tell dear Sylvia that if there's anything I can do--I mean in the way of helping her with regard to the supper----" "We've telephoned to Benoist's. It's all fixed up. Thanks very much." "Oh! But still I think I'll send my recipe for salmon mayonnaise. Don't you think I might?" "It can't do any harm, when you come to think of it," he answered, getting up. Before he left, Aunt William pressed a sovereign into his hand guiltily, as if it were conscience money. He, on his side, took it as though it were a doctor's fee, and both ignored the transaction. "Tell your father I'm sure I shall enjoy his entertainment, though why on _earth_ he still lives in Onslow Square, when he ought to be in London, I can't and never shall, understand. However, I believe there's quite a sort of society in Kensington, and no doubt _some_ of the right people will be there. Are any of the Primrose League coming, do you know, Savile?" "Sure to be. There's Jasmyn Vere for one." "Oh, Lord Dorking's son. He's a Knight Harbinger." "Is he, though? He looks like a night porter," said Savile. "Good-bye." He then turned back to murmur. "I say, Aunt William. Thanks most awfully." She went back smiling. * * * * * A few minutes later Savile was looking over the railings into Berkeley Square. In a kind of summer-house among the trees sat a little girl of fourteen dressed in grey. She wore a large straw hat on her head and a blue bow in her hair, and had evidently provided herself with materials of amusement for the afternoon, for she had a "picture-postcard album" by her side, and seemed absorbed in a thick volume of history. Dolly Clive resembled in expression and the shape of her face one of Sir Joshua's angel's heads (if one could imagine them brunettes). She had large brown eyes and a long black plait, and was a graceful example of what was formerly called "the awkward age." It needed no connoisseur to see that she was going to be a very pretty woman. When she saw Savile, she rushed to the gate and let him in with a key. "Hallo, Dolly!" "I say, Savile, wasn't King Charles the Second an angel? I've just been reading all about him, and you can't think what fun they used to have!" He seemed surprised at this greeting, walked slowly with her to the arbour, and said rather suspiciously---- "Who had fun?" "Why Lady Castlemaine, and Nell Gwynne, and the Duchess of Portsmouth,--and all those people. It says so here, if you don't believe it! I wish I'd lived at that time." "I don't. There's fun now, too."