For answer Asako gently squeezed the elder woman’s hand, but Lady Georgie was in no mood to return the pressure.  The girl at once felt the absence of the response, and said,—­

“What, you do not like the capitaine Geoffroi?”

But her fairy godmother answered bitterly,—­

“On the contrary, I have a considerable affection for Geoffrey.”

“Then,” cried Asako, starting up, “you think I am not good enough for him.  It’s because I’m—­not English.”

She began to cry.  In spite of her superficial hardness, Lady Everington has a very tender heart.  She took the girl in her arms.

“Dearest child,” she said, raising the little, moist face to hers, “don’t cry.  In England we answer this great question ourselves.  Our fathers and mothers and fairy godmothers have to concur.  If Geoffrey Barrington has asked you to marry him, it is because he loves you.  He does not scatter proposals like calling-cards, as some young men do.  In fact, I have never heard of him proposing to anyone before.  He does not want you to say ‘No’, of course.  But are you quite ready to say ‘Yes’?  Very well, wait a fortnight, and don’t see more of him than you can help in the meantime.  Now, let them send for my masseuse.  There is nothing so exhausting to the aged as the emotions of young people.”

That evening, when Lady Everington met Geoffrey at the theatre, she took him severely to task for treachery, secrecy and decadence.  He, was very humble and admitted all his faults except the last, pleading as his excuse that he could not get Asako out of his head.

“Yes, that is a symptom,” said her Ladyship; “you are clearly stricken.  So I fear I am too late to effect a rescue.  All I can do is to congratulate you both.  But, remember, a wife is not nearly so fugitive as a melody, unless she is the wrong kind of wife.”

It was a wrench for the little lady to part with the oldest of her friendships, and to give up her Geoffrey to the care of this decorative stranger whose qualities were unknown, and undeveloped.  But she knew what the answer would be at the end of the fortnight.  So she steeled her nerves to laugh at her friends commiserations and to make the marriage of her godchildren one of the season’s successes.  It would certainly be an interesting addition to her museum of domestic dramas.

* * * * *

There was one person whom Lady Everington was determined to pump for information on that wedding-day, and had drawn into the net of her invitations for this very purpose.  It was Count Saito, the Japanese Ambassador.

She cornered him as he was admiring the presents, and whisked him away to the silence and twilight of her husband’s study.

“I am so glad you were able to come, Count Saito,” she began.  “I suppose you know the Fujinamis, Asako’s relatives in Tokyo?”

“No, I do not know them.”  His Excellency answered, but his tone conveyed to the lady’s instinct that he personally would not wish to know them.