Yes! So these were the friends whom Mr. Burke had sent to call on her! And there she sat--or shrank--she who was supposed to be the hostess of the party! Beneath her expensive new hat--quite the wrong one to wear with that particular frock, which she changed when I went out--her face was wide-eyed and dazed. She who had shown so much self-confidence at her last tea-party with just those two young men had lost it all in the midst of these other people. There she sat, silent, lips apart, bewildered eyes moving from one to the other. Between the languid, posing cobra-woman and the gay, chattering, sulphur-crested cockatoo, she looked like a small hypnotised rabbit. I slipped up to her with my best professional manner on. "Did you want me for anything, Miss?" I asked in my lowest and most respectful tone. Poor little Million's face lighted up into a look of the most pathetic relief as she turned and beheld her one friend in that tea-room. "Ow! S-Smith! Come in, have you?" she exclaimed, giggling nervously. Then, turning to the music-hall artiste, she explained: "This is my lady's-maid!" "And very nice, too!" said Miss Vi Vassity promptly, with one of those black-eyed glances that seemed to swing round from me to Million, thence to the cobra-woman, the other girls, the stout young Jew, all of whom were staring hard at me. She ended up in a lightning-quick wink and a quick turn to the long glass that stood beside her teacup which, I suppose, had contained what those people the other day called a rattlesnake cocktail. "I didn't send for you, Smith, but never mind since you're here," my young mistress said, almost clinging to me in her nervousness. "You can pop upstairs and begin to put out my evening things, as usual----" "Extra smart to-night, Smith, extra smart; she's comin' on to a box at the Palace to see little Me in my great Dazzling act," put in the actress. "Got to be very dressy for that, old dear. Gala night at the Opera isn't in it. "The black pearl rope you'll wear, of course. And your diamond fender to wave your hand to me in, please!" "Ow!" breathed the dismayed heiress. "Well, I--I don't know as how I'd expected----" She hasn't acquired any ornaments at all as yet. And, somehow, I knew that this black-eyed, bright-haired actress knew that perfectly well. For some reason she was pulling poor Million's leg just as mercilessly as her precious friend the Honourable Jim---- Even as I was thinking this there strolled up the room to our group the cool, detached, and prosperous-looking figure of the Honourable Jim himself--the man who had just got out of my taxi at Charing Cross. Miss Vi jingled her gold mesh vanity-bag at him with its hanging cluster of gold charms, gold pencil, gold cigarette-case.