It was a beautiful room with hardly anything in it; a large, high, empty room in pure First Empire style. A small yellow sofa with gilded claws, and narrow bolster cushions, was near the fireplace; a light blue curved settee, with animals' heads, was in the middle of the room. There was a highly polished parquet floor with no carpet, a magnificent chandelier, and the curtains were held up by elaborately carved and gilded cornices with warlike ornaments. Bertie wandered round the room, tried, vainly, to see himself in the narrow looking-glass, which was placed too high, and admired the refreshing absence of fat cushions, unnecessary draperies, photographs, and vases of flowers. On a small console-table was one immense basket of mauve orchids. Bertie was looking at this with some curiosity, not unmixed with annoyance, when Felicity came into the room. "How _marvellous_ of you!" he exclaimed. "Again I'm thunderstruck at your having _exactly_ the right thing to wear, to come down early in the morning to see a too persistent friend!" He looked at her dress. "Pale green--how well it suits you; and how wonderful of you to be so empireish--at this hour!" "What _do_ you want, Bertie?" said Felicity, smiling, but impatiently. "Oh, please don't be so definite! and I thought you knew!" "Please don't be so imbecile; I don't want to know." They both sat down, and she held out the letter. "I didn't read all this," she said; "but you seem to have given me a programme of your engagements for to-day. I can't think why." "Because I want to know yours. To come to the point," said Wilton. "If I go to the Ogilvies', will you be there?" "Well, of course! As if Vera could have a musical afternoon without me!" "Good, that's settled. And what are you doing to-night?" "Well, which do you advise?" she said. "The Creepers'? Or Jasmyn Vere's party?" "If I might advise, _do_ go there. His things are really rather jolly. Is Chetwode coming?" "No, Chetwode's struck. He won't go to anything more. He's going away on Saturday for the week end, so I shall stop at home with him to-morrow. To-night I'll go to Jasmyn Vere's. What time does one get there?" "One gets there a little before you do, for the pleasure of the anxiety and agonising suspense of dreading you won't come and knowing you will." He got up. "If you would turn up at half-past ten--before the crush--we could sort of sit out, and laugh at the people." "Perhaps I shall," said Felicity. "Lady Chetwode, you are as good as you are beautiful." "Oh, don't carry on like that, Bertie! I suppose it's through your having gone to that ball as Louis XIX; every now and then you seem to think you're in the last century." "But when I'm here, I know I'm in the next," and he took his leave in the highest spirits. * * * * *