“Well, to begin with, there is Lady Greendale, an eminently pleasant woman.  She comes as general chaperon, and I shall consider her under your especial care.  You will not find it hard work, for she is an eminently sympathetic woman, ready to chat if you are disposed to talk, to interest herself in other ways if you are not.  She has plenty of common sense, is tolerant of tobacco, and a thorough woman of the world, though her headquarters have for years been in the country.  With her is her daughter.”

“Well, what about her?  I have heard of her as having made quite a sensation this season, and between ourselves I had some idea that this party was specially planned on her account.”

“To some extent perhaps it was,” Frank Mallett laughed.  “Bertha Greendale is an old chum of mine.  I knew her in very short frocks, for they were near neighbours of ours in the country; and her father, Sir John, was always one of my kindest friends.  She was a slip of a girl when I went out to India, and though I thought that she would turn out pretty, I certainly did not expect she would be anything like as good looking as she is.  She was always a nice girl, and success so far has not spoiled her.

“Then there is a Miss Sinclair, a great friend of Bertha’s; and Jack Hawley of the Guards.  I knew him out in the Crimea.  The other two are Wilson, who is a clever young barrister, and a particularly pleasant fellow; and his wife, who is a sister of Miss Sinclair; so I think there are the elements of a pleasant party.  All the ladies are broken into smoke, for Sir John smoked, and so does Wilson; so that you won’t be expected to go forward, as they do on the P and O, whenever you want to enjoy your favourite pipe.”

“That is a comfort, anyhow, Mallett.  If there is one thing in the world I hate, it is having to go and hunt about for some place to smoke in; and I never accept an invitation to any shooting party unless I know beforehand that smoking is allowed.  At what time do you expect the others?”

“They will be down at half-past twelve; they are all coming by the same train, and it was because I knew that you would want to be in a smoking carriage that I told you to come down by the earlier one.  And, besides, I thought it well to get you here first.  You are the only stranger, as it were.  The others are all intimate with each other, and it was as well to post you as to their various relationships.”

“One thing, Mallett.  I hope Lady Greendale is not in any way a marrying woman.  I am not like Mr. Pickwick, afraid of widows, and have perfect confidence in my power to resist temptation; but at the same time it makes all the difference in the world to one’s comfort.  I am not ass enough to suppose that Lady Greendale would even dream for a moment of setting her cap at a Colonel on half pay, but if a woman is in the marrying line she always expects a certain amount of what you may call delicate attention.  It is her daily bread, for she considers that unless every man she comes across evinces a certain amount of admiration, it is a sign that her charms are on the wane, and her chances growing more and more remote.”