Miss Radford came early, excusing herself for this breach of decorum on the grounds that it made her painfully nervous to enter a room when strangers were present; apart from which, to arrive in good time meant that one had a chance of looking at oneself in the mirror. Did Gertie consider that her (Miss Radford's) complexion was showing signs of going off? A lady friend, who, from the description given, seemed to be neither a friend nor a lady, had mentioned that Miss Radford was beginning to look her full age; and remarks of this kind might be contradicted but could not be ignored.

"Don't you ever get anxious about your personal appearance?" she inquired.

"Not specially."

"I suppose," agreed Miss Radford, "that being properly engaged does make you a bit less anxious."

Clarence came with Miss Loriner, and the young hostess flushed at the young woman's first words. Henry sent his best regards. Henry, it appeared, no longer spent week-ends at Ewelme--this because of some want of agreement with Lady Dougla.s.s; and he was now busy in connection with a sanatorium at Walton-on-Naze, which demanded frequent journeys from Liverpool Street. Gertie, in taking Miss Loriner to get rid of hat and dust-cloak in the adjoining room, felt it good to find herself remembered. Miss Loriner wanted a small fan, and searching the hand-bag which she had brought, first looked puzzled, and then became enlightened.

"I've brought Lady Dougla.s.s's bag by mistake," she cried, self-reproachfully. "Here are her initials in the corner--'M. D.'; not 'M. L.'" Miss Loriner gave an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.

"What is it you've found there?"

"This," announced the other deliberately, "is the missing key of the billiard-room at Morden Place!"

The two girls looked at each other, and Gertie nodded.

"I've been blaming her brother all along for that trick."

"My dear girl," demanded Miss Loriner, "aren't you fearfully excited and indignant about it?"

"Doesn't seem to matter much now. But," smiling, "she is a character, isn't she? I pity you if she often does things like that."

"I shall be uncommonly glad," admitted the other, "when Clarence earns three hundred a year. Do you know that if you had stayed on at Morden Place, this key would most likely have been found in your portmanteau."

Frederick Bulpert, arriving with his friends, a.s.serted his position by attempting to kiss Gertie; she drew back, and Bulpert said manfully that if she could do without it he could also afford to dispense with the ceremony. He introduced his companions as two of the very best and brightest, and they intimated, by a modest shrug of the shoulders, that this might be taken as a correct description. The sisters of Westbourne Grove came bearing a highly-ornamental cardboard case with a decoration of angels, and containing a pair of gloves. They mentioned that if the size was not correct the gloves could be changed, and at once took seats in the corner of the room, whence they surveyed the company with a critical air, sighing in unison, as though regretting deeply their mad impulsiveness in accepting the invitation. On this, other presents were offered; Bulpert said his memento would come later on. One of his friends sat on the music-stool, and Sarah, the charwoman's daughter, entering at the first chord with a tray that held sandwiches and cakes, said to him casually, "Hullo, George, you on in this scene?" and handed around the refreshments. Bulpert's friend, disturbed by the incident, waited until the girl left the room, and then explained that he had met her in pantomime, the previous Christmas, at the West London Theatre; he argued forcibly that people encountered behind the footlights had no right to claim acquaintance outside. "Otherwise," contended Bulpert's friend, "we're none of us safe." He was induced to give his song, and the first lines,--

"I went to Margate, once I did, to spend my holidee, Such funny things you seem to see beside the silver sea"

suggested that he was not one disposed to worship originality or make a fetish of invention. Bulpert, at the end, pointed out that his friend had omitted the last verse; the man at the pianoforte said there were some places where he was in the habit of giving the last verse; this, he declared flatteringly, was not one of them. Gertie's aunt came upstairs to announce that, the occasion being special, she had taken it upon herself to put up the shutters. If they excused her for half a second this would give her sufficient s.p.a.ce to t.i.ttivate and smarten up.

"Say when you want me to liven 'em up, Gertie," remarked Bulpert.

"Go and be nice to those two sisters in the corner."

"When we're married," he said, "we'll often give little affairs of this kind. I'm a great believer in hospitality myself."

As he did not appear to make a great deal of headway with the Westbourne Grove ladies, he was recalled and the task handed over to Clarence Mills. Clarence scored an immediate success. The sisters, it seemed, prided themselves upon being tremendous readers; Clarence was acquainted with some of the writers who, to them, were only names. And the young hostess would have been able to survey the room with contentment, but for the fact that Miss Radford suddenly became depressed--with hands clasped over a knee she rocked to and fro in her chair. Gertie discovered that to her friend had just come the terrifying thought that no one loved her, n.o.body cared for her, and for all practical purposes Miss Radford might as well be dead and buried, with daisies growing over her grave. Gertie argued against this melancholy att.i.tude, and the other explained that it came to her only at moments when every one else was jolly and cheerful, adding defiantly that she could not avoid it, and did not mean to avoid it.

"People," declared Miss Radford with truculence, "have to take me as they happen to find me!"

Bulpert's second friend, advancing with a pack of cards, asked if Miss Radford would kindly select one and tell him the description. "The Queen of Hearts? Nothing," said Bulpert's second friend, with a gallant bow, "nothing could be more appropriate." Miss Radford cried, "Oh, what a cheeky thing to say!" and at once bade farewell to melancholy.

A wonderful man, the second friend--able to do everything with cards that ordinary folk deemed impossible. If you selected a card and tore it up; and he presently--talking all the while--produced a card, and said in the politest way, "I think that is yours, madam?" and you remarked that this was the four of clubs, whereas you selected the five, he exclaimed, with pretence of irritation, "Well, what is there to grumble at?" and, looking again, you saw that it had changed to the five of clubs. There was nothing to do but to applaud and wonder. He swallowed cards, and produced them with a slight click from his elbow, the middle of his back, and his ankle. He allowed Miss Loriner to find the four aces and put them at the bottom of the pack, and the next moment asked Mr. Trew, who had just arrived, to produce them from the inside pocket of his coat. Mr. Trew had some difficulty in finding them, but the conjurer a.s.sisted, and there were the four aces; and Mr.

Trew, after denying the suggestion that he had come prepared to play whist, admitted the young man was a masterpiece. Mr. Trew's watch was next borrowed and wrapped in paper; the poker borrowed in order to smash it; the violent blow given. Miss Radford was asked to be so very kind as to a.s.sist by looking in the plate of nuts that stood on the table, and there the watch was discovered, safe and sound. Some thought-reading followed, not easy to understand because of the incessant monologue kept up by the gifted youth; but the results were satisfactory, and by pressing the folded pieces of paper very hard against his forehead, he was able to announce the names written within.

"This is yours, I think, Miss Higham. Now, I don't guarantee success, mind you, in every case, but--the name, I think, is Henry"--he contorted his features--"Henry Dougla.s.s. Is that right, may I ask?"

"Quite correct!" replied Gertie.

"What did you want to write his name for?" demanded Bulpert, seated next to her.

"It was the first that came into my head."

"Kindly keep it out of your head in future," he ordered, "or else there'll be ructions."

Did the ladies object to smoke? asked some one. The ladies answered, separately and collectively, that they adored smoke; the Westbourne Grove young women, now in excellent fettle, admitted that, at times, they themselves enjoyed a cigarette, but could not be persuaded to give a public exhibition of their powers. They did, however, agree to give a short sketch ent.i.tled "Who is Who?" and the hearthrug was given up to them; and if they had not made so many corrections--neither appeared to be well acquainted with her own part in the piece, but each was letter perfect in the part of the other--the duologue would have been a great success.

"And now," said Mrs. Mills, "let's see about refreshments. Mr. Trew, where's that corkscrew of yours?"

"Isn't it about time I was asked to do something?" demanded Bulpert, with an injured air.

"Let us see you do your celebrated trick," suggested Gertie's aunt, with irony, "of eating nearly everything there is on the table. That's what you're really clever at."

Miss Radford, by a sudden inspiration, suggested the ladies should wait upon the gentlemen, and herself took a plate to Bulpert's conjuring friend; the example was imitated. Mr. Trew, attended to by Gertie, declared it a real treat to see her looking like his own little friend once again.

"Makes me think," he said, "that if there wasn't quite so much diplomacy about on the part of those of us who reckon we know everything, you young uns would get a far better chance. Speaking as one who's been a fusser all my life, that's my candid opinion."

"If you interfered, Mr. Trew, you would interfere wisely."

He emptied his gla.s.s in one drink, and set it upon the mantelpiece. "I wouldn't kiss the book on that, if I was you," he replied. "But what you can be very well certain about is that if I saw the chance of doing anything for you--"

Miss Rabbit was announced by Sarah, and Gertie had to leave Mr. Trew in order to make much of her colleague. Bulpert, having edged other folk from the hearthrug, announced that he was about to give, with the aid of memory, a short incident of the American Civil War; to his astonishment and open indignation, one of the Westbourne Grove girls arrested him with the suggestion that instead they should all have a game. Challenged to indicate one, she asked what was the matter with musical chairs. So chairs were placed down the centre of the room, facing opposite ways alternately. Gertie went to the pianoforte, and all prepared to join, with the exception of Bulpert, who, in the corner, and his back to the others, ate sandwiches.

Admirable confusion, thanks to Gertie's ingenious playing. As they started to march warily in a line up and down the row, she, after giving the first bar, stopped, and they had to rush for seats.

Clarence Mills was left out and a chair withdrawn. The next trial was much longer, and only when caution was being relaxed did the music cease; Miss Loriner, defeated at this bye-election, had to take a seat near to Clarence. The joyousness was so p.r.o.nounced that Bulpert found himself to take some interest, and when Mrs. Mills, left in with Mr.

Trew, eventually won the game, he urged it should be restarted, and that some other lady should play the music. On the first arrest by Miss Rabbit at the pianoforte, he sat himself on a chair already occupied by Gertie. At the moment, Sarah appeared again at the doorway.

"A young man," she announced importantly. "A gentleman this time."

Henry Dougla.s.s came in. Gertie struggled to disengage herself, but Bulpert declined to move.

"Mrs. Mills, I must apologize for calling at this late hour."

"Don't mention it, sir."

"I have just had a message from my sister-in-law, and I wanted to see Miss Loriner. Lady Dougla.s.s has been taken seriously ill."

Mr. Trew took Bulpert by the collar and sent him with a jerk against the wall. Gertie, flushed and confused, shook hands with Henry.

"I'm not going to break up your evening," he said, looking at her eagerly. "The matter is urgent, or I wouldn't have dared to call."

"We are always," she stammered, "always pleased to see you, Mr.

Dougla.s.s."

"My dear mother asked me to give you her love when I met you. There is a car waiting," he went on, addressing Miss Loriner; "could you manage to come now? We can do it in little over a couple of hours."

Gertie took Miss Loriner into the adjoining room.