'Oh, Edith likes going to see him,' said Bruce to Madame Frabelle. 'So do I, if it comes to that. We're all fond of old Aylmer, you know.'

'I know. I quite understand. You're great friends. Personally, I think Mr Ross has behaved splendidly.' Madame Frabelle said this with an air of self-control and scrupulous justice.

'You don't care very much about him, I fancy,' said Bruce with the air of having made a subtle discovery.

She raised one eyebrow slightly. 'I won't say that. I see very excellent points in him. I admit there's a certain coldness, a certain hard reserve about his character that--Well, frankly, it doesn't appeal to me. But I hope I am fair to him. He's a man I respect.... Yes, I respect him.'

'But he doesn't amuse you--what?' said Bruce.

'The fact is, he has no sense of humour,' said Madame Frabelle.

'Fancy your finding that out now!' said Bruce, with a broad smile.

'Funny! Ha ha! Very funny! Do you know, it never occurred to me! But now I come to think of it--yes, perhaps that's what's the matter with him.

Mind you, I call him a jolly, cheery sort of chap. Quite an optimist--a distinct optimist. You never find Aylmer depressed.'

'No, not depressed. It isn't that. But he hasn't got--You won't either of you be angry with me for what I say, will you?'

'Oh no, indeed.'

'You won't be cross with me, Edith? Perhaps I ought not to say it.'

'Yes, do tell us,' urged Edith.

'Well, what I consider is the defect in Aylmer Ross is that he has brains, but no temperament.'

'Excellent!' cried Bruce. 'Perfectly true. Temperament! That's what he wants!'

Edith remembered hearing that phrase used in her presence to Madame Frabelle--not about Aylmer, but about someone else. It was very characteristic of Madame Frabelle to catch up an idea or a phrase, misapply it, and then firmly regard it as her own.

Bruce shook his head. 'Brains, but no temperament! Excellent!'

'Mind you, that doesn't prevent him being an excellent soldier,' went on Madame Frabelle.

'Oh dear, no. He's done jolly well,' said Bruce. 'I think I know what she means--don't you, Edith?'

'I'm sure _she_ does,' said Edith, who had her doubts. 'I don't know that I do quite know what people mean when they say other people haven't got temperament. The question is--what _is_ temperament?'

'Oh, my dear, it's a sort of--a something--an atmosphere--a sympathy.

What I might call the magnetism of personality!'

'That's right!' said Bruce, pa.s.sing his cup for another cup of tea.

'Aylmer's hard, hard as nails.'

'Hasn't he got the name of being rather warm-hearted and impulsive, though?' suggested Edith.

'Oh, he's good-natured enough,' said Bruce. 'Very generous. I've known him to do ever so many kind things and never let a soul except the fellow he'd helped know anything about it.'

'You don't understand me,' said Madame Frabelle. 'I don't doubt that for a moment. He's a generous man, because he has a sense of duty and of the claims of others. But he has the effect on me--'

'Go on, Eglantine.'

'Frankly, he chills me,' said Madame Frabelle. 'When I went to see him with Edith, I felt more tired after a quarter of an hour's talk with him than I would--' She glanced at Bruce.

'Than you would after hours with Landi, or Bruce, or Byrne Fraser, or young Coniston,' suggested Edith.

'That's what I mean. He's difficult to talk to.'

'I have no doubt you're right,' said Edith.

'Well, she generally is,' said Bruce. 'The only thing is she's so infernally deep sometimes, she sees things in people that n.o.body else would suspect. Oh, you do, you know!'

'Oh, do I?' said Madame Frabelle modestly.

'Yes, I think you do,' said Edith, who by this time felt inclined to throw the tea-tray at her guest. The last fortnight Edith's nerves had certainly not been quite calm. Formerly she would have been amused at the stupidity of the conversation. Now she felt irritated, bored and worried, except when she was with Aylmer.

There was a moment's silence. Bruce leant back and half shut his eyes.

Madame Frabelle softly put a cushion behind his shoulder, putting a finger on her lip as she looked at Edith.

Edith suddenly got up.

'You won't think it horrid of me, Bruce? I've got to go out for a few minutes.'

'Oh no, no, no!' said Bruce. 'Certainly not. Do go, my dear girl. You'll be back to dinner?'

'Dinner? Of course. It isn't a quarter to six.'

Her eyes were bright. She looked full of elasticity and spirit again.

'I quite forgot,' she said, 'something that I promised to do for Mrs Mitch.e.l.l. And she'll be disappointed if I don't.'

'I know what it is,' said Madame Frabelle archly. 'It's about that Society for the Belgians,'--she lowered her voice--'I mean the children's _lingerie_!'

'That's it,' said Edith gratefully. 'Well, I'll fly--and be back as soon as I can.'

Bruce got up and opened the door for her.

'For heaven's sake don't treat me with ceremony, my dear Edith,' said Madame Frabelle.

She made a little sign, as much as to say that she would look after Bruce. But she was not very successful in expressing anything by a look or a gesture. Edith had no idea what she meant. However, she nodded in return, as if she fully comprehended, and then ran up to her room, put on her hat, and, too impatient to wait while the servant called a cab, walked as quickly as possible until she met one near the top of Sloane Street. It was already very dark.

'Twenty-seven Jermyn Street,' said Edith as she jumped in.

Ten minutes later she was sitting next to Aylmer.

'Only for a second; I felt I must see you.'

'Fool! Angel!' said Aylmer, beaming, and kissing her hand.