"I'm going to bed. I can't keep on my feet another minute, tea or no tea. If I don't drag myself upstairs now I never shall. It's fatal to sit down; one can't get up again." "That's right," assented Miss Marsh. "I'll bring up your tea when I come, dear." "Angel, thanks awfully. Good-night, ladies and gentlemen." Miss Plumtree left the sitting-room with this languidly facetious valediction. "That girl _does_ look tired. I hope she gets into bed quickly," observed Mrs. Potter, pulling off her hat and exposing a rakishly _décoiffé_ tangle of wispy hair. "Not she--she'll dawdle for ages," prophesied Miss Marsh. "Still, it's something if she gets into her dressing-gown and bedroom slippers, out of her corsets, you know." Miss Delmege put down her cup of tea. "Rather a strange subject we seem to be on for meal-time, don't we?" she remarked detachedly to Grace. "Meal-time?" exclaimed Miss Henderson derisively. "That's what I said, dear, and I'm in the habit of meaning what I say, as far as I know." "I really don't know how you can call it meal-time when we're not even at table. Besides, if we were, there's nothing _in_ what Marsh said--absolutely nothing at all." "Oh, of course, some people see harm in anything," burst out Miss Marsh, very red. "The harm is in their own minds, is what I say, otherwise they wouldn't see any." "That's right," agreed Miss Henderson, but below her breath. Miss Delmege turned with dignity to her other neighbour. "I may be peculiar, but that's how I feel about it. I imagine that you, as a married woman, will agree with me, Mrs. Potter?" Mrs. Potter did not agree with her at all, but something in the appeal, some subtle hint of the dignity of Mrs. Potter's position amongst so many virgins, caused her to temporize feebly. "Really, Miss Delmege, you mustn't ask me. I--I quite see with you--but at the same time--there wasn't anything in what Miss Marsh said, now, was there? I mean, really. Simply corsets, you know." Nearly every one had by this time forgotten exactly what Miss Marsh _had_ said, and only retained a general impression of licentiousness in conversation. "We're all girls together," exclaimed Miss Marsh furiously. "Gentlemen in the room would be a very different thing," Miss Henderson supported her. "I'll take a second cup, Mrs. Bullivant, if you please," said Miss Delmege with dignity. "There!" exclaimed Miss Henderson. Miss Marsh had suddenly begun to cry. Mrs. Bullivant hastily poured out more tea, and said uncertainly: "Come, come!" "There's no call for any one to cry, that I can see," observed Miss Delmege, still detached, but in a tone of uneasiness. "The fact is, I'm not myself today," sobbed Miss Marsh. "What is it?" said Gracie sympathetically. She slipped a friendly hand into her room-mate's. "I had a letter which upset me this morning. A great friend of mine, who's been wounded--a boy I know most awfully well."