But she had to talk about it for a week before she actually made her raid, and then, with an instinctive need for an audience, she took with her a certain Miss Garradice, one of those mute, emotional nervous spinsters who drift detachedly, with quick sudden movements, glittering eyeglasses, and a pent-up imminent look, about our social system. There is something about this type of womanhood—it is hard to say—almost as though they were the bottled souls of departed buccaneers grown somehow virginal. She came with Lady Beach-Mandarin quietly, almost humorously, and yet it was as if the pirate glittered dimly visible through the polished glass of her erect exterior. “Here we are!” said Lady Beach-Mandarin, staring astonished at the once familiar porch. “Now for it!” She descended and assailed the bell herself and Miss Garradice stood beside her with the light of combat in her eyes and glasses and cheeks. “Shall I offer to take her for a drive!” “_Let’s_,” said Miss Garradice in an enthusiastic whisper. “_Right away! For ever._” “_I will_,” said Lady Beach-Mandarin, and nodded desperately. She was on the point of ringing again when Snagsby appeared. He stood with a large obstructiveness in the doorway. “Lady ’Arman, my lady” he said with a well-trained deliberation, “is not a Tome.” “Not at home!” queried Lady Beach-Mandarin. “Not a Tome, my lady,” repeated Snagsby invincibly. “But—when will she be at home?” “I can’t say, my lady.” “Is Sir Isaac——?” “Sir Isaac, my lady, is not a Tome. Nobody is a Tome, my lady.” “But we’ve come from London!” said Lady Beach-Mandarin. “I’m very sorry, my lady.” “You see, I want my friend to see this house and garden.” Snagsby was visibly disconcerted. “I ’ave no instructions, my lady,” he tried. “Oh, but Lady Harman would never object——” Snagsby’s confusion increased. He seemed to be wanting to keep his face to the visitors and at the same time glance over his shoulder. “I will,” he considered, “I will enquire, my lady.” He backed a little, and seemed inclined to close the door upon them. Lady Beach-Mandarin was too quick for him. She got herself well into the open doorway. “And of whom are you going to enquire?” A large distress betrayed itself in Snagsby’s eye. “The ’ousekeeper,” he attempted. “It falls to the ’ousekeeper, my lady.” Lady Beach-Mandarin turned her face to Miss Garradice, shining in support. “Stuff and nonsense,” she said, “of course we shall come in.” And with a wonderful movement that was at once powerful and perfectly lady-like this intrepid woman—“butted” is not the word—collided herself with Snagsby and hurled him backward into the hall. Miss Garradice followed closely behind and at once extended herself in open order on Lady Beach-Mandarin’s right. “Go and enquire,” said Lady Beach-Mandarin with a sweeping gesture of her arm. “Go and enquire.” For a moment Snagsby surveyed the invasion with horror and then fled precipitately into the recesses of the house.