"My remark must have been very misleading to have conveyed that impression," he returned. "I was not aware that we were upon unfriendly terms. A difference of opinion does not necessitate the breaking of a friendship." "Perhaps not," agreed Peggy, looking amused. "But it strains the relationship somewhat. Come along, Mr Musgrave, and toast the friendship in a bumper of milk punch." Mr Musgrave accompanied her from the room, and emerging at her side into the great hall, already thronged with the other guests, was instantly separated from his companion by half a dozen eager young men, who bore Peggy away among them and left Mr Musgrave on the outskirts, as it were, of the festivities, looking, as he felt, utterly stranded and out of touch with his surroundings. Miss Simpson, who had sought in vain for him throughout the evening, seeing him standing alone, so evidently out of his element, made her determined way across the width of the hall and joined him. Mr Musgrave did not feel as grateful to her as he might have felt. He spent much of his time on these social evenings in carefully avoiding her. But it is not always possible to evade a person whose purpose in life it is to frustrate this aim, particularly when the object of the pursuit shrinks from hurting the pursuer's feelings, Therefore when Miss Simpson hurried up to Mr Musgrave, with anxiety and determination in her eyes, he received her with the reserved politeness of a perfectly courteous person, accepting the inevitable with a fairly good grace. "They are going to sing `Auld Lang Syne,'" she said. "I loathe these stupid customs. But one cannot make one's self conspicuous; one has to do as the rest do." "Assuredly," Mr Musgrave agreed, with his ear inclined towards Miss Simpson and his eye fixed on a huge punch-bowl standing on a table in the centre of the hall, presided over by the female butler and her helpers.