"I often think," remarked Rosemary, preparing to follow her, "that you placid people must find life very easy. I wish I did."

Not thinking this observation worthy of being replied to, Miss Allison merely smiled and stood aside for her to pass into the drawing room.

Their reappearance coincided with the arrival of the gentlemen from the dining room. As the door opened old Mrs. Kane abandoned even the smallest show of interest in the diet of Betty Pemble's children and looked towards it. Her deeply lined countenance, with its close mouth and pale, rather starting eyes, had in repose a forbidding quality, but as her glance fell on Jim Kane her whole face seemed to soften, and her mouth to relax into one of its rare smiles. She said nothing, but when he came across the room towards her she looked pleased and made a little gesture towards a chair beside hers.

He paused by a table to stub out his cigarette before coming to her, and then drew up the indicated chair and sat down.

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" inquired Emily.

He smiled. "That sounds as though I've done something I shouldn't. Have I?"

She gave a grim chuckle. "I'll be bound you have. When are you coming to stay?"

"Next week. May I?"

She nodded. "They don't give you long enough holidays at that Treasury," she said. "Where's your mother gone gallivanting off to now?"

"Belgian Congo," replied Jim. "It's no use asking me precisely where in the Congo, because no one can make out the address on her last letter. It looks like Mwarro Gwarro, but we can't help feeling that that's improbable."

"Pack of nonsense!" said Emily, but without rancour. "At her age too. Leaving the boy—what's his name—with us, are you?"

"That was the general idea," Jim admitted. "Not mine, but Adrian's. Do you mind? Adrian says Cousin Silas was kind enough to invite him."