“Such nonsense! Do you want me to be as bigoted and narrow-minded as those Conservatives who are continually holding the party back, because they are quite incapable of realising there are two sides to a question? I don’t hold the same views as Sir Edwin at all. I’m not likely to, being on the staff of the _Morning Mail_; but that isn’t any reason why I should object to him as a friend.” “No; but his reputation might be.” Hal stamped her foot. “Oh, don’t stand there and talk about a man’s reputation in that superior, self-satisfied fashion. What is it to you anyhow? My friendship can’t possibly be any concern of yours.” She moved away with a restless, ruffled manner, and threw back at him: “Of course I’m awfully grateful to you for being so interested in my welfare, but your concern is a little misplaced. I am quite capable of taking care of myself, and have been for at least seven years.” He looked hurt, and about to retort, but at that moment Lorraine’s latch-key sounded in the door, and Hal went out into the hall to meet her. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” she remarked, as they re-entered together. “Baby is in one of his insufferable, superior moods, and is lecturing me on my friendship with Sir Edwin. And all because I casually mentioned I had had a game of golf with him.” Lorraine looked a little surprised, but she only remarked laughingly: “It’s a little fad of his to lecture. I rather like it; but I wonder he had the temerity to lecture you.” “Unfortunately, lecturing doesn’t instill common sense,” put in Hermon, “and it only requires common sense to understand Sir Edwin Crathie isn’t very likely to prove a satisfactory friend.” “You mean it only requires dense, narrow-minded self-satisfaction. Really, Baby, if you are so good to look at, there is surely a limit even to your permissible airs and graces”; and Hal tossed her head. “Now come, you two,” interposed Lorraine; “I don’t want quarreling over my tea. Give her some of that sticky pink-and-white cake, Alymer, and have some yourself, and you will soon both grow amiable again.” “He hasn’t got his bib,” Hal snapped, “and he knows his mother told him he was to have bread-and-butter first. You are not to spoil him, Lorry. Spoilt children are odious.” “So are conceited women,” he retorted. “It’s only that new hat that is making you so pleased with yourself.” “It’s a dear hat,” she commented. “You have to pin a curl on with it, else there’s a gap. I’m in mortal dread I shall lose the curl, or find it hanging down my back.” No more was said on the subject of Sir Edwin, but when Hal was about to leave, and found that Hermon was staying on, she pursed up her lips with an air of sanctimonious disapproval and said: “I don’t want to hurt any one’s feelings, but I’m not at all sure _Mr_. Hermont is quite a nice friend for you, Lorraine. His conversation is neither elevating nor improving, and I hardly like to go off now and leave you alone with him.”