"You are speaking of Miss Norreys, are you not?" he asked. The name had caught his attention, and, when Celia bowed in response--"Yes, she is charming," he went on. "It is curious: I have found myself thinking of her two or three times during dinner. There is a certain something which I cannot define, which reminds me of her in that girl on the other side of the table--nearer our host--yes," as he followed Celia's eyes, "the girl next but one to my wife. You know _her_, Mrs Fancourt, by sight--in pale green? No?" (He thought everybody knew his wife.) "Ah, well, you know her now." "She is very pretty," said Celia, simply. "I cannot contradict you," he said, with a well-pleased smile, which made Celia think that, after all, he must be rather a nice man--she liked husbands who thought their wives very pretty--and disposed her to question the truth of Winifred's sweeping assertion that conjugal affection was never to be found among "smart" people. "But," continued Mr Fancourt, "look at the girl I mentioned--the girl in black. Do you see the slight something--scarcely resemblance--about her, which recalls Miss Norreys?" In her turn Celia now smiled with pleasure. "She is my sister," she replied. "She will be delighted when she hears what you say. No, I don't think it would have struck me that there was any likeness. But I daresay there _is_ some likeness in character. My sister is very self-reliant and--and--dauntless. And I should think there is something of that about Miss Norreys." Having found a topic of interest, the rest of the dinner passed pleasantly enough, and Mr Fancourt felt that doing his duty had not been the arduous task he had anticipated. But it was her conversation with Eric Balderson which left its mark on Celia's mind. "Oh, Celia," said Winifred, when she managed to get her sister to herself for a moment in the drawing-room, "I feel in a new world. Mr Sunningdale has been talking to me so delightfully, so _perfectly_. All my intuitions about the larger, wider life I should find in London are being realised. How narrow our small home-world seems in comparison! I told Mr Sunningdale something of what I am hoping to do, and I can see he sympathised in my longing to throw off the narrow trammels we have been brought up in. People here have much wider ideas!" "You must have made friends very quickly," said Celia. In her tone there was not the complete and responsive sympathy which she was, as a rule, eagerly ready to give to her sister. She could not help it. A slight chill of doubt, of questioning of the perfect wisdom of Winifred's theories, had been, though unintentionally, cast over her. But the elder Miss Maryon was too excited and enthusiastic to perceive it, and this Celia was glad to see. For, after all, the faintest idea of disagreement with Winifred's opinions or judgment was extraordinary and unnatural to her.