And then I heard a cry which could only be in Vivie's voice--dear old Viv--( leans forward with shining eyes to press her hand) and ...
there we are.

How're the bruises ?" _Vivie_: "Oh, they ache rather, but it is such _joy_ to have such friends as you and Praddy and Michael Rossiter, that I don't mind _what_ I go through..." _Frank_: "But I say, Viv, about this Rossiter man.

He seems awfully gone on you... ?" _Vivie_ (flushing in the firelight): "Does he?
It's only friendship.
I really don't see them often but he came to my assistance once at a critical time.

And now that Praddy's all-powerful parlour-maid's definitely left us, I will tell you _my_ story." So she does, between five and half-past six, almost without interruption from the spell-bound Frank--who says it licks any novel he ever read, and she ought to turn it into a novel--with a happy ending--or from Praed who is at times a little somnolent.

Then at half-past six, the practical Frank says: "Look here, you chaps, I could go on listening till midnight, but what's the matter with a bit of dinner?
I dare say Praddy's parlour-maid might turn sour if we asked her at a moment's notice to find dinner for three.