’Yes.  He bought Oxley Paddox some time ago and promptly re-christened it Torp Towers.  But he’s not a bad fellow.  Maud likes him, though Lady Creedmore calls him names.  He has such a nice little girl—­at least, it’s not exactly his child, I believe,’ his lordship ran on rather hurriedly; ’but he’s adopted her, I understand—­at least, I fancy so.  At all events she was born deaf, poor little thing; but he has had her taught to speak and to understand from the lips.  Awfully pretty child!  Maud delights in her.  Nice governess, too—­I forget her name; but she’s a faithful sort of woman.  It’s a dreadfully hard position, don’t you know, to be a governess if you’re young and good-looking, and though Van Torp is rather a decent sort, I never feel quite sure—­Maud likes him immensely, it’s true, and that is a good sign; but Maud is utterly mad about a lot of things, and besides, she’s singularly well able to take care of herself.’

‘Yes,’ said Margaret; but she thought of the story Logotheti had told her on the previous evening.  ’I know Mr. Van Torp, and the little girl and Miss More,’ she said after a moment.  ’We came over in the same steamer.’

She thought it was only fair to say that she had met the people of whom he had been speaking.  There was no reason why Lord Creedmore should be surprised by this, and he only nodded and smiled pleasantly.

’All the better.  I shall set Maud on you to drag you down to Derbyshire in September,’ he said.  ’Women never have anything to do in September.  Let me see—­you’re an actress, aren’t you, my dear?’

Margaret laughed.  It was positively delightful to feel that he had never heard of her theatrical career.

‘No; I’m a singer,’ she said.  ‘My stage name is Cordova.’

‘Oh yes, yes,’ answered Lord Creedmore, very vaguely.  ’It’s the same thing—­you cannot possibly have anything to do in September, can you?’

‘We shall see.  I hope not, this year.’

’If it’s not very indiscreet of me, as an old friend, you know, do you manage to make a living by the stage?’

‘Oh—­fair!’ Margaret almost laughed again.

Lady Maud returned at this juncture, and Margaret rose to go, feeling that she had stayed long enough.

‘Margery has half promised to come to us in September,’ said Lord Creedmore to his daughter, ’You don’t mind if I call you Margery, do you?’ he asked, turning to Margaret.  ’I cannot call you Miss Donne since you really remember the chocolate wafers!  You shall have some as soon as I can go to see you!’

Margaret loved the name she had been called by as a child.  Mrs. Rushmore had severely eschewed diminutives.

‘Margery,’ repeated Lady Maud thoughtfully.  ’I like the name awfully well.  Do you mind calling me Maud?  We ought to have known each other when we were in pinafores!’

In this way it happened that Margaret found herself unexpectedly on something like intimate terms with her father’s friend and the latter’s favourite child less than twenty-four hours after meeting Lady Maud, and this was how she was asked to their place in the country for the month of September.  But that seemed very far away.