She sailed across the room, hand outstretched to Quixtus. “I’m so sorry I’m late, and so sorry I could not run in to-day. I’ve been up to my ears in work. I hope Tommy has been a satisfactory lieutenant.” “He has most faithfully carried out your instructions,” said Quixtus, recovering his balance. Clementina smiled on Mrs. Fontaine. “How d’ye do. How charming to meet you again. But you’re looking pale to-night, my dear, quite fagged out, I hope nothing’s the matter.” She turned round quickly leaving Lena Fontaine speechless with amazement and indignation, and shook hands with the astonished Admiral. Was this regal-looking woman the same paint-daubed rabbit-skinner of the studio? He murmured vague nothings. “Well, my dears?” Tommy and Etta thus greeted stood paralysed before her like village children at a school feast when they are addressed by the awe-inspiring squire’s lady. “Pinch me. Pinch me hard,” Tommy whispered, when Clementina had turned to meet Lord Radfield whom Quixtus was presenting. “I believe I have the pleasure of taking you down to dinner,” said Lord Radfield. “I’m a sort of brevet hostess in this house,” said Clementina. “A bad one, I’m afraid, seeing how late I am.” Spriggs announced dinner. Quixtus led the way with Lady Radfield, Clementina on Lord Radfield’s arm closed the procession. The company took their places in the great dining-room. Quixtus at the end of the table by the door sat between Lady Radfield and Lady Louisa. Clementina at the foot between Lord Radfield and General Barnes. Lena Fontaine had her place as near Clementina as possible, between Lord Radfield and Griffiths, a dry splenetic man who had taken her in. Clementina had thus arranged the table-plan. The scheme of decoration was too striking in its beauty not to arouse immediate and universal comment. It was half barbaric. Rich Chinese gold embroideries on the damask; black and gold lacquer urns, a great black-and-gold lacquer tray. Black irises, with golden tongues, in gold-dust Venetian glass; tawny orchids flaring profusely among the black and gold. Here and there shining though greenery the glow of golden fruit, and, insistent down the long table, the cool sheen of ambergris grapes. Glass and silver and damask; black and gold and ambergris; audacious, startling; then appealing to the eye as perfect in its harmony. Quixtus and Tommy each proclaimed the author. All eyes were directed to Clementina. Attention was diverted to the name-and menu-cards. Lord Radfield put his name-card into his pocket. “It is not every day in the week that one takes away a precious work of art from a London dinner-party.”