"Oh, why?" asked Rowena, looking up from her desk with a wrinkle between her brows.
"Well, she made a special point of your accompanying me. She lost her heart to you the other afternoon when she was here. Now I let you off a good many places, but not this one. Will you be ready about half-past four?"
"If you wish."
And so it came to pass that Rowena found herself, on a foggy November afternoon, in a crowded drawing-room in Palace Gate. She knew many of the young people assembled there, for Lady Graeme, like Mrs. Burke, though old herself, loved to surround herself with the young. It was not a very staid gathering. There was a distinctly rowdy element in it. Every one smoked, and voices were loud and voluble. Rowena got as near the door as she could. She hoped she could slip out into an emptier ante-room, but first one and then another detained her. Lady Graeme's second son, Alan by name, was a special crony of hers. He had stayed at Minley Court on several occasions, and was a fresh frank young fellow in the Scots Guards. He now slipped into a seat close to her.
"Thanks be, that you are here, at any rate," he said. "I do loathe the mater's crushes so. I hardly see you anywhere in town. Don't you go about?"
"I'm not a gadder by choice," said Rowena cheerfully.
"You don't look it! Did you ever see such a set of women as are here this afternoon? I'm getting fed up with it. I should like to go off game hunting in Somaliland or in the Rockies."
"Why don't you do it when you get your leave? I agree with you, one does get fed up with all this. So much energy wasted."
"Oh, I know what you think of us. You and I have had some straight talks. Why don't you sober your giddy old friend over there. My word! she might be just eighteen!"
Mrs. Burke was the centre of a noisy group—the other end of the room. One of the men was taking off a well-known parliamentary character, and his audience was convulsed with laughter.