“My dear friends!” exclaimed the head-master.  “Is it possible that it is you who have filled the gap so successfully?  Well, really, what shall we say to such kindness?”

“Mrs. Churchill—­Doctor Churchill—­Miss Birch—­all of you,” Mrs Agnew was saying, in her surprise, “what a very lovely thing to do!  It has been too kind of you.  We appreciate it more than we can tell you.  You must come out at once and have some supper.”

“The evening would have been spoiled without you!” cried Jessica Agnew, and Isabel said the same thing.  Chester was loud in his praises, and indeed, the orchestra received an ovation which quite overwhelmed it.  It went out to supper presently, escorted by at least twenty young people.

“Here, come and sit by me, Lucy,” invited Just, in good humour at the success of his plan.  “You can keep handing me food as I consume it.  I never was so starved in my life.  Well, have you had a good time?  Sorry I had to desert you, but I’ve no doubt the others introduced you round and saw that you weren’t neglected.”

“I think Chester Agnew is one of the handsomest boys I ever met,” whispered Lucy.  “Hasn’t he the loveliest eyes?  He was just devoted to me.”

Just turned, his mouth full of chicken pate, and regarded her with interest.  “Yes, his eyes are wonders,” he agreed, his own twinkling.  “Full of soul, and all that, you mean?  Yes, they are, though I never noticed it till you pointed it out.”

Lucy looked at him suspiciously.

“He liked my dress,” she went on.

“Did, eh?  Ches must be coming on.  Never knew him to notice a girl’s dress before.”

“I saw him looking at it,”—­Lucy’s tone was impressive—­“and asked if he liked pink.  He said it was his favourite colour.”

“H’m!  I must take lessons of Ches.”

“He looked at me so much I was awfully embarrassed,” said Lucy, under her breath, with drooping eyes.

Just favoured her with another curious glance.  “Maybe he’s never seen just your kind before,” he suggested.  “Lucy, by the time you’re twenty you’ll be quite an old hand at this society business, won’t you?”

“What makes you think so?” she asked, not sure whether to be gratified or not.

“Oh, your small talk is so—­well, so—­er—­interesting.  A fellow always likes to hear about another fellow—­about his eyes, and so on.”

“Oh, you mustn’t be jealous,” said Lucy, with a glance which finished Just.  He choked in his napkin, and turned his attention to Carolyn Houghton, on his other side.

But when he went to bed that night he once more gave vent to his feelings on the subject of his sister’s guest.

“Jeff,” said he, “if a girl has absolutely no brains in her head, what do you suppose occupies the cavity?”

“Give it up,” returned Jeff, sleepily.

“I think it must be a substance of about the consistency of a marshmallow,” mused Just, thoughtfully.  “I detest marshmallows,” he added, with some resentment.