"Fanny has let the cat out of the bag," she said, leaning forward and speaking directly to Mrs. Grant. "But I am afraid it is unpleasantly true. We are on the stage, you know; Dr. Grant ought to have warned you; it was hardly fair to let you meet us without telling you." A pained silence fell on the party; Mrs. Grant's face was a perfect study; Dick's had flushed dull red. Mabel stirred uneasily and made an attempt to gather her diplomacy about her. "It was not a case of warning us," she began; "you forget that we saw you ourselves the other night when you played _The Merry Widow_. Won't you have some more tea, Miss Leicester?"--Joan had been introduced to them under that name. A great nervousness had descended upon Fanny. She had talked a great deal too much, she knew, and probably Joan was furiously angry with her. But beyond that was the knowledge that she had--as she would have expressed it herself--upset Joan's apple-cart. Real contrition shone in the nervous smile she directed at Mrs. Grant. "I'm that sorry," she said, "if I have said anything that annoyed you; but you mustn't mix me up with Joan; she is quite different. I----" "Fanny!" Joan interrupted the jumbled explanation. "You have nothing to apologize for. We eat and look very much like ordinary people, don't we?"--she stared at Mabel as she spoke--"it is only just our manners, and morals that are a trifle peculiar. If you are ready, Fanny, I think we had better be getting back." Dick stood up abruptly; he did not meet Mabel's eyes, but she could see that his face was very white and angry. "I am driving you back," he said, "if you do not mind waiting here I will fetch the motor round." He took the girl's side straight away without hesitation. Mabel caught her breath on the bitter words that rose to her lips. Joan's outburst had been an extraordinary breach of good manners; nothing that had happened could in any way excuse or condone it. Yet it was not Joan that Dick was angry with, but herself. "I very much regret you should feel as you do," she said to Joan, after Dick had gone off to fetch the motor; "your friend and yourself were my guests; we none of us had the slightest desire to be rude to you." "Oh, no," flamed Joan in answer; "you did not want to be rude, you just wanted to make us understand quite plainly the difference that lay between us. And you have made us realize it, and it is I that have been rude. Come along, Fanny"--the motor could be seen coming along the drive; she swept to her feet--"let us go without talking any more about it." She turned, saying no good-byes, and walked away from them. Fanny hesitated a moment, her eyes held a pathetic appeal and there were tears near the surface. She felt she had ruined Joan's chances of a suitable marriage.