"Ah, now you make me happy!" she said; and she turned to him with a little flush on her face which made her prettier than ever. "I have been quite wretched whenever I thought of you or heard your name. People spoke of you as if you had died, or got the measles, with a kind of pity in their voices which made me mad and hate myself. You see, as I said, I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't realize that I was coming between an hereditary legislator and his descendant and heir." Drake could not help smiling. "You had better not call my uncle an hereditary legislator, Lady Angleford. I don't think he'd like it." "But he is, isn't he?" she said. "It is so difficult for an American to understand these things. We are supposed to have the peerage by heart; but we haven't. It's all a mystery and a tangle to us, even the best of us. But I try not to make mistakes. And now I want you to tell me that we are friends. That is so, isn't it?" She held out her tiny and perfectly gloved hand with a mixture of timidity and impulsiveness which touched Drake. "Indeed, I hope we are, Lady Angleford," he said. She looked at him wistfully. "You couldn't call me 'aunt,' I suppose?" Drake laughed outright. "I'm afraid I couldn't," he said. "You are far too young for that." "I am sorry," she said. "I think I should have liked you to call me aunt. But never mind. I must be satisfied with knowing that we are friends, and that you bear me no ill will. And now, I think I will go. My little plot has been rather successful, after all, hasn't it?" "Quite a perfect success," said Drake. "And I congratulate you upon it." "Don't tell Lord Angleford," she said. "He'll say it was 'so American'; and I do hate him to say that." Drake promised that he would not relate the little farce to his uncle, and got her cloak and took her down to the Angleford carriage. As he put her in and closed the door, she gave him her hand, and smiled at him with a little air of triumph and appeal. "We are friends, aren't we?" she asked. "The best of friends, Lady Angleford," he replied. "Good night." He went back to say good night to Lady Northgate. "You played it rather low down upon me, didn't you?" he remarked. "My dear Drake, what could I do?" she exclaimed. "That poor little woman was so terribly anxious to gain your good will. She didn't understand in the least the harm she was doing you. And what will you do? She is immensely rich--her father was an American millionaire----" Drake's face hardened. One thing at least he knew he couldn't do: he could not bring himself to accept charity from Lady Angleford. Lady Northgate understood the frown. "Don't kill me before all these people, Drake!" she said. "I dare say it's very silly of me, but I can't help plotting for your welfare. You see, I am foolish enough to be rather fond of you. There! Go down and drink that soda and whisky with Harry. If you won't let your friends help you, what will you do?"