"Good, that's settled. And what are you doing to-night?"
"Well, which do you advise?" she said. "The Creepers'? Or Jasmyn Vere's party?"
"If I might advise, do go there. His things are really rather jolly. Is Chetwode coming?"
"No, Chetwode's struck. He won't go to anything more. He's going away on Saturday for the week end, so I shall stop at home with him to-morrow. To-night I'll go to Jasmyn Vere's. What time does one get there?"
"One gets there a little before you do, for the pleasure of the anxiety and agonising suspense of dreading you won't come and knowing you will." He got up. "If you would turn up at half-past ten—before the crush—we could sort of sit out, and laugh at the people."
"Perhaps I shall," said Felicity.
"Lady Chetwode, you are as good as you are beautiful."
"Oh, don't carry on like that, Bertie! I suppose it's through your having gone to that ball as Louis XIX; every now and then you seem to think you're in the last century."
"But when I'm here, I know I'm in the next," and he took his leave in the highest spirits.