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Rachel Seddon, looking more alien than usual in this so-English company, bent her dark eyes on her friend and then drew her close to her on the little sofa. "Janet, darling, you're such a success. I hear murmurs on every side of me: 'But isn't she charming? Just the wife for Wildherne. So quiet ...' Oh yes, you're a success. You're doing it all to perfection. My dear, if you'd only seen me at my coming-out ball years ago. Do you remember, Uncle John, how terrified I was and how kind you were to me? That was the night I fell in love with Roddy.... Ah dear! Tout passe. ... Tom's somewhere; have you seen him?"

No, Janet had not. Had Rachel been talking to Wildherne, because if not she must.

"Yes, we had a delightful time. I like him so much. I find that we think alike about almost everything, even about yourself. And his hair's such a nice colour. It would be a fortune to a woman. Ah! here's M. Brun. Do you know Miss Grandison? Janet, this is M. Felix Brun, one of my oldest friends, and the only man in Europe who knows anything about politics."