Then, while the three women sat and watched him, he made the tea, taking from the caddy a spoonful for each guest, and an additional spoonful for the requisite strength, according to custom. Mr Musgrave had made his own tea for many years; he saw no reason now for discontinuing this practice, though one person present--the one with the least right--would gladly have relieved him of the task. It was so pathetic, she reflected, to see a man making the tea; it was significant of his lonely state. Clearly a man needed a wife to perform this homely office, a wife of a suitable age, with similar tastes, who would never distress him with any display of unwomanly traits. "I always think that no one makes tea quite like you do," she murmured sweetly, as she received her cup from John Musgrave's hand. Which speech, in its ambiguity, Mrs Chadwick considered extremely diplomatic. CHAPTER SEVEN. "I have," said Mrs Chadwick dramatically that same evening to Mrs Sommers, "been exactly a week in Moresby, and I have made two enemies. What will be the result when I have lived here a year?" This question opened up ground for reflection. Belle reflected. She did it, as she did most things, quickly. "You will possibly overcome their prejudices, and make them love you." "That is a charming answer," Mrs Chadwick replied. "But I am not sure that their love would not prove equally embarrassing. I would prefer to win their regard." "It is merely another term for the same emotion," Mrs Sommers insisted. They were seated before the fire in Mrs Chadwick's bedroom, having a last chat before retiring. Though women live together in the same house, and part, possibly for the first time for the day, outside their bedroom doors, a last chat is a privileged necessity--that is, when women are companions; when the last chat ceases to be a necessity it is a proof of mutual boredom. Mrs Chadwick and Belle Sommers were a long way off the point of boredom. Belle had begun going to Mrs Chadwick's bedroom in her capacity of pseudo hostess, thinking that possibly Mrs Chadwick, who had come without a maid in deference to a hint from her friend that strange servants would be unwelcome in Mr Musgrave's household, might find herself at a loss. But Mrs Chadwick was seldom at a loss in the matter of helping herself; a maid was a luxury, not an essential, in her train of accessories. The pekinese alone was indispensable. She had conceded the point about the maid, but she had refused to be separated from the pekinese. It is conjectural whether Mr Musgrave did not object more to the pekinese than he would have to the maid; but Belle, like Mrs Chadwick, did not consider it wise to humour all his little prejudices.