Miss Mather entered the drawing-room thoughtfully with the helpless feeling of one who, having made a mistake, pauses between the alternatives of tenacity and recantation. And yet as soon as she saw him a little tremor of pleasure passed over her. In spite of his drooping pose, his vacant stare, his obvious inadequacy she was sure there was something about Cyril Hammersley that made him beyond doubt the most distinguished-looking person in the room--not even excepting Rizzio. He came over to her at once, the monocle dropping from his eye. “Aw’fly glad. Jolly good to see you, m’dear. Handsome no end.” He took her hand and bent over her fingers. Such a broad back he had, such a finely shaped head, such shoulders, such strong hands that were capable of so much but had achieved so little. And were these all that she could have seen in him? Reason told her that it was her mind that demanded a mate. Could it be that she was in love with a beautiful body? There was something pathetic in the way he looked at her. She felt very sorry for him, but Betty Heathcote’s laughter was still ringing in her ears. “Thanks, Cyril,” she said coolly. “I’ve wanted to see you--tonight--to tell you that at last I’ve volunteered with the Red Cross.” Hammersley peered at her blankly and then with a contortion set his eyeglass. “Red Cross--you! Oh, I say now, Doris, that’s goin’ it rather thick on a chap----” “It’s true. Father’s fitting out an ambulance corps and has promised to let me go.” John Rizzio, tall, urbane, dark and cynical, who had joined them, heard her last words and broke into a shrug. “It’s the khaki, Hammersley. The women will follow it to the ends of the earth. Broadcloth and tweeds are not the fashion.” He ran his arm through Hammersley’s. “There’s nothing for you and me but to volunteer.” The Honorable Cyril only stared at him blankly. “Haw!” he said, which, as Lady Betty once expressed it, was half the note of a jackass. Here the Kipshavens arrived and their hostess signaled the advance upon the dinner-table. One of the secrets of the success of Lady Heathcote’s dinners was the size and shape of her table, which seated no more than ten and was round. Her centerpieces were flat and her candelabra low so that any person at the table could see and converse with anyone else. It was thus possible delicately to remind those who insisted on completely appropriating their dinner partners that private matters could be much more safely discussed in the many corners of the house designed for the purpose. Doris sat between Rizzio and Byfield, Hammersley with Lady Joyliffe just opposite, and when Rizzio announced the American girl’s decision to go to France as soon as her training was completed she became the immediate center of interest. “That’s neutrality of the right sort,” said Kipshaven heartily. “I wish all of your countrymen felt as you do.”