"Oh, only that there are some very happy people in the world even now," said Olwen.
"'Some' pessimist", murmured the Aunt, whose vocabulary was not of her epoch. "Never mind, Olwen; I have just remembered something. An admirer rang you up on the telephone this afternoon, and would you ring him up at the Regent Palace Hotel as soon as you came in——?"
"What?" said Olwen, astonished. "What was his name, and why d'you think he was an admirer, Lizzie?"
"I think he admired you by the tone of his voice, in which he said, 'Miss Olwen,'" said the demure Aunt, who had a private and vicarious delight in watching all the activities of her young niece. "As for his name——what was it now? Something rather out of the way."
"I don't know," wondered Olwen. "Was it Mr. Ellerton?"
"Oh, no; not our young Naval man who finished our last drop of whisky, by the way—no, I thought at once of him, dear, but it wasn't. It was—oh, yes! He said, 'Ask her to ring up Lieutenant Brown.'"
"What? Not Little Mr. Brown?"
"I couldn't tell you what height he was," murmured the Aunt, but already Olwen, amused, had run out into the hall and had taken up the telephone.
(Coincidence, then, had been busying itself with another of the Les Pins party!)
After some little delay the Regent Palace found Mr. Brown.