Trixton Brent laughed, and Mrs. Kame, too, after a moment’s hesitation.  She laid her hand familiarly on Mr. Brent’s arm.

“I haven’t seen you all summer, Trixy,” she said.  “I hear you’ve been here at Quicksands, stewing in that little packing-case of yours.  Aren’t you coming into our steeplechase at Banbury.

“I believe you went to school with my sister,” said young Mr. Wing.

“Oh, yes,” answered Honora, somewhat surprised.  “I caught a glimpse of her once, in New York.  I hope you will remember me to her.”

“And I’ve seen you before,” proclaimed Mr. Cuthbert, “but I can’t for the life of me think where.”

Honora did not enlighten him.

“I shan’t forget, at any rate, Mrs. Spence,” said Cecil Grainger, who had not taken his eyes from her, except to blink.

Mrs. Kame saved her the embarrassment of replying.

“Can’t we go somewhere and play bridge,” Trixy demanded.

“I’d be delighted to offer you the hospitality of my packing-case, as you call it,” said Brent, “but the dining-room ceiling fell down Wednesday, and I’m having the others bolstered up as a mere matter of precaution.”

“I suppose we couldn’t get a fourth, anyway.  Neither Jimmy nor Toots plays.  It’s so stupid of them not to learn.”

“Mrs. Spence might, help us out,” suggested Brent.

“Do you play?” exclaimed Mrs. Kame, in a voice of mixed incredulity and hope.

“Play!” cried Mr. Brent, “she can teach Jerry Shorter or the Duchess of Taunton.”

“The Duchess cheats,” announced Cecil Grainger.  “I caught her at it at Cannes—­”

“Indeed, I don’t play very well,” Honora interrupted him, “and besides—­”

“Suppose we go over to Mrs. Spence’s house,” Trixton Brent suggested.  “I’m sure she’d like to have us wouldn’t you, Mrs. Spence?”

“What a brilliant idea, Trixy!” exclaimed Mrs. Kame.

“I should be delighted,” said Honora, somewhat weakly.  An impulse made her glance toward the veranda, and for a fraction of a second she caught the eye of Lily Dallam, who turned again to Mrs. Chandos.

“I say,” said Mr. Cuthbert, “I don’t play—­but I hope I may come along.”

“And me too,” chimed in Mr. Wing.

Honora, not free from a certain uneasiness of conscience, led the way to the Brackens, flanked by Mr. Grainger and Mr. Cuthbert.  Her frame of mind was not an ideal one for a hostess; she was put out with Trixton Brent, and she could not help wondering whether these people would have made themselves so free with another house.  When tea was over, however, and the bridge had begun, her spirits rose; or rather, a new and strange excitement took possession of her that was not wholly due to the novel and revolutionary experience of playing, for money—­and winning.  Her star being in the ascendant, as we may perceive.  She had drawn Mrs. Kame for a partner, and the satisfaction and graciousness of that lady visibly grew as the score mounted:  even the skill of Trixton Brent could not triumph over the hands which the two ladies held.