Jocelyn laughed with slightly heightened colour, which Lady Cantourne noted with an appreciative little nod. “My other reason is that, years ago at school, I knew a girl who was very like you. I loved her intensely--for a short time--as girls do at school, you know. Her name was Treseaton--the Honourable Julia Treseaton.” “My mother!” said Jocelyn eagerly. “I thought so. I did not think so at first, but when you spoke I was certain of it. She had a way with her lips. I am afraid she is dead.” “Yes; she died nearly twenty-five years ago in Africa.” “Africa--whereabouts in Africa?” Then suddenly Jocelyn remembered where she had heard Lady Cantourne's name. It had only been mentioned to her once. And this was the aunt with whom Millicent Chyne lived. This cheery little lady knew Jack Meredith and Guy Oscard; and Millicent Chyne's daily life was part of her existence. “The West Coast,” she answered vaguely. She wanted time to think--to arrange things in her mind. She was afraid of the mention of Jack's name in the presence of this woman of the world. She did not mind Maurice or Guy Oscard--but it was different with a woman. She could hardly have said a better thing, because it took Lady Cantourne some seconds to work out in her mind where the West Coast of Africa was. “That is the unhealthy coast, is it not?” asked her ladyship. “Yes.” Jocelyn hardly heard the question. She was looking round with a sudden, breathless eagerness. It was probable that Millicent Chyne was in the rooms; and she never doubted that she would know her face. “And I suppose you know that part of the world very well?” said Lady Cantourne, who had detected a change in her companion's manner. “Oh yes.” “Have you ever heard of a place called Loango?” “Oh yes. I live there.” “Indeed, how very interesting! I am very much interested in Loango just now, I must tell you. But I did not know that anybody lived there.” “No one does by choice,” explained Jocelyn. “My father was a judge on the Coast, and since his death my brother Maurice has held an appointment at Loango. We are obliged to live there for eight months in the twelve.” She knew it was coming. But, as chance would have it, it was easier than she could have hoped. For some reason Lady Cantourne looked straight in front of her when she asked the question. “Then you have, no doubt, met a friend of mine--Mr. Meredith? Indeed, two friends; for I understand that Guy Oscard is associated with him in this wonderful discovery.” “Oh yes,” replied Jocelyn, with a carefully modulated interest, “I have met them both. Mr. Oscard lunched with us shortly before we left Africa.”