Mannering smiled and tried it.

“It is,” he acknowledged. “Delightful.”

“Wait till you try the Cockburn 1900,” said Fauntley. “A wine with body in it, real body!”

Mannering felt the girl’s eyes on him suddenly — smiling eyes. His own twinkled. Yes, he liked her. He told himself that he must spend an hour looking up the record of her painting. She had a reputation for strong work in the old style, despite her modern tendencies in everything but art. It would be strong work, of course. Everything about her suggested power.

“I hear you had a wonderful day,” said Lady Fauntley.

“Fair,” said Mannering, smiling secretly. More than ever he realised the good effect his reputation was creating. No one, not even his closest friends, had any idea that he was so low in money.

He quizzed his hostess for a moment, staring at the Liska diamond in her corsage, and noticing the reddening of her skin under his gaze.

“That’s a wonderful stone, Lady Fauntley,” he said at length.

“Recognised it, eh?” chuckled Fauntley. “I wondered whether you would. Old Rawson is cursing himself for letting it go, I’ll bet.”

“Are you interested in precious stones ?” asked Lorna.

Lady Fauntley noticed the sparkle in her daughter’s eyes, and was apprehensive. Lorna did say such dreadful things on occasions.

“Always, when they become their wearers,” said Mannering.

He was sorry, a moment later. The triteness of the words brought a flicker of amusement to Lorna’s eyes. There was something scornful about her expression.

“Almost like pressing button B, wasn’t it?” she said mockingly.

“Oh, my dear!” thought Lady Fauntley miserably.

“Darned little idiot!” stormed her husband inwardly, stabbing viciously at his fish.

Mannering laughed, and was glad of the answering laughter in the girl’s eyes.

“Touché!” he admitted. “As ye sow, so shall ye reap.”