you will conduct yourself properly, or you will leave the house.”  Then he tried another tone, and said very different things—­the kind of thing one likes to hear, you know; but I pretended that I didn’t care for it a bit.  “It’s all over between us then?” he shouted at last; yes, really shouted, and I’m sure people must have heard.  “All over?” I said.  “But there never was anything—­nothing serious.”  “Oh, all right.  Good-bye, then.”  And off he rushed.  And I dare say I’ve seen the last of him—­for a time.’

‘Now do try to live quietly, my dear,’ said Emmeline.  ’Go on with your music, and read a little each day—­’

’Yes, that’s just what I’m going to do, dear Mrs. Mumford.  And your friends will be here to-morrow; it’ll be so quiet and nice.  And on Monday we shall go to the theatre, just for a change.  And I’m not going to think of those people.  It’s all settled.  I shall live very quietly indeed.’

She banged on the piano till nearly eleven o’clock, and went off to bed with a smile of virtuous contentment.

The guests who arrived on Sunday morning were Mr. and Mrs. Grove, Mr. Bilton, and Mr. Dunnill.  Mrs. Grove was Emmeline’s elder sister, a merry, talkative, kindly woman.  Aware of the circumstances, she at once made friends with Miss Derrick, and greatly pleased that young lady by a skilful blending of “superior” talk with easy homeliness.  Mr. Bilton, a stockbroker’s clerk, represented the better kind of City young man—­athletic, yet intelligent, spirited without vulgarity a breezy, good-humoured, wholesome fellow.  He came down on his bicycle, and would return in the same way.  Louise at once made a resolve to learn cycling.

’I wish you lived at Sutton, Mr. Bilton.  I should ask you to teach me.’

‘I’m really very sorry that I don’t,’ replied the young man discreetly.

‘Oh, never mind.  I’ll find somebody.’

The fourth arrival, Mr. Dunnill, was older and less affable.  He talked chiefly with Mr. Grove, a very quiet, somewhat careworn man; neither of them seemed able to shake off business, but they did not obtrude it on the company in general.  The day passed pleasantly, but in Miss Derrick’s opinion, rather soberly.  Doing her best to fascinate Mr. Bilton, she felt a slight disappointment at her inability to engross his attention, and at the civil friendliness which he thought a sufficient reply to her gay sallies.  For so good-looking and well-dressed a man he struck her as singularly reserved.  But perhaps he was “engaged”; yes, that must be the explanation.  When the guests had left, she put a plain question to Mrs. Mumford.

‘I don’t think he is engaged,’ answered Emmeline, who on the whole was satisfied with Miss Derrick’s demeanour throughout the day.

’Oh!  But, of course, he may be, without you knowing it.  Or is it always made known?’

‘There’s no rule about it, my dear.’