Meanwhile, Denis, surrounded by the rest of the party, was indulging in a form of amusement that he had popularised of late among the younger members of the two households. It consisted in a sort of uneven cock-fight between himself and Gerald Tribe, on the question of religion, and it was punctuated by roars of laughter from Leonetta, Vanessa, Guy Tyrrell, and even Stephen Fearwell; while the unfortunate Mrs. Tribe, feeling that her husband was being made to look ridiculous for the edification of the rest of the party, would repeatedly interrupt the proceedings by urging her spouse to "come to bed." This, however, he always resolutely refused to do, much to the satisfaction of everybody present; and the unequal contest would be continued. Sometimes the sensitive and sensible woman would interpolate a remark which considerably discomfited her husband's aggressor; and then, hoping to bring the controversy quickly to an end on this note of triumph, would tug vigorously at his coat sleeve. But Incandescent Gerald, hot, excited, beaten, and indignant, was not to be lured away to the marital bed while he still smarted from his opponent's blows, and endeavouring ever afresh to turn the tide of battle, would remain to blunder on into another rout. At one moment on the evening of the day of Cleopatra's first fall, when the laughter against him rose too high, the moon revealed to Stephen Fearwell that tears of indignation were welling in Mrs. Tribe's eyes; and then thinking of Miss Mallowcoid, and of how this one holiday in the year, away from the hard spinster's cold tyranny, was being spoilt for her by these evening debates, he rose smartly to his feet, clapped the Incandescent Gerald on the back, and tugged at his collar. "Look here, sir," he cried, "you're beginning to interest me in this Inner Light of yours. Come for a walk and tell me more about it. Perhaps Mrs. Tribe will join us?" "Oh, don't take them away!" cried Guy Tyrrell, while Leonetta and Vanessa moaned. "Sorry," said Stephen, "but I honestly want to hear all about it. Come on, Tribe!" Incandescent Gerald rose, half dazed. He believed in his Inner Light, whatever Denis might have to say against it, and he could hardly resist Stephen's gratifying suggestion. He smiled guilelessly into the young man's face, and he, Stephen, and Mrs. Tribe vanished into the darkness. "Stephen was a lout to go and do that!" Guy exclaimed. "I think he noticed that Mrs. Tribe was beginning to cry," said Vanessa. "Nonsense, Nessy, you must be dreaming!" retorted Denis. CHAPTER XI In the full-grown schoolgirl, who stands on the threshold of womanhood, we have a creature who, though probably admirably equipped with normal or even supernormal passions, is, possibly owing to the accident of her age and her position, less prone to be led by passion than by vanity in her first affairs with the other sex.