Fan turned round, holding Masterman by one leg and staring with bright blue eyes at Mrs. Mansfield. Her countenance expressed a dignified inquiry combined, perhaps, with a certain amount of very natural surprise at so unseemly an interruption of her strictly private interview with Claude Heath and Masterman. Her left thumb mechanically sought the shelter of her mouth, and it was obvious that she was "sizing up" Mrs. Mansfield with all the caution, if not suspicion, of the female nature in embryo. Heath took her gently by the shoulder as he came forward, smiling, and propelled her slowly toward the middle of the large dim room. "Welcome!" he said, holding out his hand. "Yes, Fantail, I quite understand. He's been sick and now he's getting better. Go with mother!" Fan was exchanged for Mrs. Mansfield and vanished, speaking slowly and continuously about Masterman's internal condition and "the new lydy," while Mrs. Mansfield took off her fur coat and looked around her and at Heath. "I didn't kiss her," she said, "because I think it's a liberty to kiss one of God's creatures at first sight without a special invitation." "I know--I know!" Heath seemed restless. His face was slightly flushed, and his eyes, always full of a peculiar vitality, looked more living even than usual. He glanced at Mrs. Mansfield, then glanced away, almost guiltily, she thought. "Do come and sit down by the fire. Would you like a cushion?" "No, thank you! What a nice old settle!" "Yes, isn't it? I live in this room. Alling, the painter, built it for his studio. The other rooms are tiny." "What a delightful servant you have!" "Mrs. Searle--yes. She's a treasure! Humanity breaks out of her whatever the occasion. And my goodness, how she understands men!" He laughed, but the laugh sounded slightly unnatural. "Fantail's delightful, too!" he added. "What is her real name?" "Fanny. I call her Fantail." He paused. "Well, because I like her, I suppose." "I know."