Mrs. Hastings drew her niece a little closer to her.
"Is this part of your European manners, Pamela?" she whispered, "that you dine alone in a restaurant with an acquaintance? Let me tell you frankly that I dislike the idea most heartily. My chaperonage is always at your service, and any girl of your age in America would be delighted to avail herself of it."
"It is very kind of you, aunt," Pamela replied, "but in a general way I finished with chaperons long ago."
"Where is Jimmy?" Mrs. Hastings inquired.
"He was coming with us to-night," Pamela explained, "but I asked him particularly to stay away. I have seen so little of Mr. Lutchester since he arrived, and I want to talk to him."
The financial magnate awoke from a comatose inertia and suddenly gripped Lutchester by the hand.
"Lutchester," he repeated to himself. "I thought I knew your face. Stayed with your uncle down at Monte Carlo once. You came there for a week."
Lutchester acknowledged his recollection of the fact and the two men exchanged a few commonplace remarks. Mrs. Hastings took the opportunity to try and induce Pamela to converse with Fischer.
"We have all been so interested to-night," she said, "in hearing what
Mr. Fischer has to say about the situation on the other side."
Pamela was primed for combat.