"He's not begun yet!" murmured Charmian to her mother, as the butler led them sedately down a rather long hall, past two or three doors, to the music-room which Elliot had built out at the back of his house.
"I never heard that he was going to begin at all. We haven't come here for a performance, but to make an acquaintance."
Charmian twisted her lips, and the butler opened the door and announced them.
At the end of the room, which was panelled with wood and was high, by a large open fireplace, Max Elliot was sitting with Paul Lane and two other people, a woman and a young man. The woman was large and broad, with brown hair, reckless hazel eyes, and a nose and mouth which suggested a Roman emperor. She looked about thirty-five. In her large ears, which were set very flat against her head, there were long, diamond earrings, and diamonds glittered round her neck. She was laughing when the Mansfields came in, and went on laughing while Max Elliot went to receive them.
"Mrs. Shiffney has just come," he said. "Paul has been dining."
"And—the other?" murmured Charmian, with a hushed air of awed expectation which was not free from a hint of mockery.
Mrs. Mansfield sent her a glance of half-humorous rebuke.
"Claude Heath," answered Elliot.
"How wonderful he is."
"Charmian, don't be tiresome!" observed her mother, as they went toward the fire.