"I will—a thousand thanks. The subject is closed between us," was Hugh's grateful reply.
A diversion was caused by the approach of Guy Spencer.
"Hugh, old man, I am aching for a long crack with you. Come and dine quietly with us next week. I suggest Tuesday if that will suit you?"
"Perfectly; I am free on Tuesday, Guy."
"Right, then. But to make sure, if Miss Crichton will excuse us, we will go over to Stella and see if I have forgotten something, if we are free that night. I can't always carry these things in my head."
They crossed over to the beautiful young woman, who was sustaining a somewhat listless conversation with her young hostess.
"Stella," cried her husband, "I have asked Hugh to dine with us on Tuesday. My recollection is that we have nothing on for that night. But I thought you had better confirm it. You carry these things in your head so much better than I do."
Young Mrs. Spencer smiled at Hugh her sweet smile, and as she did so her likeness to Norah Burton was overwhelming, the Norah Burton who had smiled at him in just the same way six years ago, in the tea-shop at Blankfield.
"We are quite free, Major Murchison, and shall be delighted to see you."
For a few moments he sat down beside her; and very shortly another coincidence happened.