For he was leaning confidentially towards my so forbidding aunt. He was talking fluently to her about something. He was smiling down at her--I caught the curve of his cheek in profile. And--could it be true?--my Aunt Anastasia actually didn't mind him! I only saw her back; but you know how expressive backs can be. And the usually rigid, flat shoulders with the Victorian corset-ridge, and the lady-like waist and scarcely existent hips of my aunt were positively expressing mollification, friendliness, gratification! "The old girl's all right with Jim to look after her," said Miss Vi Vassity, cheerfully to me, adding, with a large wink: "What worked the trick with her was the cue 'Ballyneck Castle,' I bet you. Me and Nellie and the rest of us weren't quite class enough for her ladyship. But you can't go wrong with these old Irish kings! So little known about 'em. Eh, Hiram? There! Milord has got a taxi for Auntie Lovelace"--which was surprisingly true. "Got off with her, hasn't he?" laughed London's Love. "S'prised at her at her time o' life. Still, there's no fool like an old fool. I ought to know; nothing at 85 can resist little Me. Now, then, lunch at last. I guess you're all fairly perishing." We were. But there was one picture that remained with me even after we all got to the Cecil and the whole party--including Miss Million's maid--were sitting greedily concentrating upon the menu at one of the round tables in the big dining-room. This was the picture of my Aunt Anastasia whirling towards Putney in that taxi--she who never, never can afford the luxury of a cab!--accompanied by the Honourable James Burke! What would that drive be like? What would that unscrupulous young Irishman say to her, and she to him? Would she ask him into No. 45? And--would he go? Would she ask questions about her niece, Miss Million's maid, and would he answer them? Oh! How I long to know these things! My wish for that is so keen that it causes me to forget even the black fog of suspicion under which my mistress and I will have to move while we are still "on bail." How I wish the Honourable Jim would hurry up and come back, just so that I could hear all about his tête-à-tête with my aunt! But as it is, there's plenty to occupy me. A delicious lunch before me to make up for no dinner the night before, and a prison breakfast this morning! At the head of the table Miss Vi Vassity, with her stream of comment as cheering and bright as the Bubbley in our glasses, which she insisted on standing all round! Beside me my very eligible and nice would-be fiancé, Mr. Reginald Brace, a young man that any girl ought to be glad to be sitting next. I don't mean "ought," of course. I mean "would." I was, I know. Mr. Brace was so kind, and tried all the time to be so sympathetic and helpful. I shall never forget his goodness. And he was really most apologetic about not having rushed to help Aunt Anastasia the minute I said anything about it.