They had made certain of finding Norma at Bryanston Square. The news that she had not arrived disquieted them. Morland anxiously suggested the police. They had a hurried colloquy, Morland and Connie standing on the pavement, Mrs. Hardacre inside the carriage, thrusting her head through the window. Connie falteringly confessed to the meeting of Jimmie and Norma in the afternoon. Something serious had evidently passed between them. Morland broke into an oath. “By God! That's where she's gone. Damn him!” “We must get her away at all costs,” said Mrs. Hardacre, tensely. “I am afraid it is my fault,” said Connie. “Of course it is,” Mrs. Hardacre replied brutally. “The best you can do is to help us to rescue her.” They started. The brougham was small, the air heavy, their quest distasteful, its result doubtful. The sense of fretfulness became acute. Mrs. Hardacre gave vent to her maternal feelings. When she touched on the vile seducer of her daughter's affections, Connie turned upon her almost shrewishly. “This is my carriage, and I am not going to hear my dearest friend abused in it.” Morland sat silent and worried. When they stopped at the house, he said: “I think I shall stay outside.” Connie, angry with him for having damned Jimmie, bent forward. “Are you afraid of facing Jimmie?” she said with a little note of contempt. “Certainly not,” he replied viciously. A few moments later Aline ran into the studio with a scared face. “Jimmie!” He went up to her, and she whispered into his ear; then he turned to Norma. “Your mother and Connie and Morland are upstairs. I don't suppose you are anxious to see them. May I tell them what has happened?” Norma rose and joined him in the centre of the studio. “I would sooner tell them myself. Can they come down here?” “If you wish it.” He gave the order to Aline. Before going, she took him by the arm and swiftly glancing at Norma, asked eagerly: “What has happened?” “The wonder of wonders, dear,” said Jimmie. With a glad cry she ran upstairs and brought down the visitors, who were waiting in the hall. Jimmie stood by the open door to receive them. Norma retired to the far end of the studio. She held her head high, and felt astonishingly cool and self-possessed. Mrs. Hardacre entered first, and without condescending to look at Jimmie marched straight up to her daughter. Then came Connie and Aline, the girl excited, her arm round her friend's waist. Morland, on entering, drew Jimmie aside. “So you've bested me,” he said in an angry whisper. “You held the cards, I know. I did n't think you would use them. I wish you joy.” A sudden flash of pain and indignation lit Jimmie's eyes. “Good God, man! Have you sunk so low as to accuse me of that? _Me?_” He turned away. Morland caught him by the sleeve. “I say--” he began. But Jimmie shook him off and went to the side of Norma, who was listening to her mother's opening attack. It was shrill and bitter. When she paused, Norma said stonily: