"Well!" said Wyn, suddenly. "Now you have seen Lady Mabel, what do you think of her."
"She is exactly what I expected," observed Jac, who was possessed of considerable acumen. "That impulsive, frank manner is of great service to her. Nothing escapes her notice, I can tell you! She has decided not to take us up as a family. She does not feel quite sure as to what we might do. Vaguely she feels that Hilda and I are formidable, and poor Osmond, of course, is to be steadily discouraged. She will ask you, Wyn, because you are rather a celebrity just now; but nobody else."
"Jac—I think you misjudge——"
"All right. Wait a fortnight. If an invitation comes for Osmond, Hilda, or me, to Bruton Street, I will humbly apologise for my uncharitable judgment."
"Jac is right," said Hilda, suddenly. "I spied Lady Mabel's eye upon me when I approached with Mr. Percivale!"
"By the way, do you like Mr. Percivale?" asked Wyn.
"I should think so!" was the emphatic answer.
Wyn passed her hand wearily over her brow.
"You look very tired, dear child," said Hilda, sympathetically.
"I am worried—about Osmond," she sighed. "I would give so much if—all that—had never taken place between him and Elsa. One sees now how hopeless—how insane the bare idea is; but I am afraid he doesn't think so, poor fellow!"