He's somewhere still." "What did you say ?" asked Mrs.Friend, puzzled.
"Oh, it's only a line of an old poem--I don't know by whom--my father used to quote it.

Well, now--did you see what happened at dinner ?" Helena had established herself comfortably in a capacious arm-chair opposite Mrs.Friend, tucking her feet under her.

She was in a white dressing-gown, and she had hastily tied a white scarf round her loosened hair.

In the dim light of a couple of candles her beauty made an even more exciting impression on the woman watching her than it had done in the lamp-lit drawing-room.
"It's war!" she said firmly, "war between Buntingford and me.

I'm sorry it's come so soon--the very first evening!--and I know it'll be beastly for you--but I can't help it.