“I had; and remember you were expected there.”

“Miss Jennings married a relation of mine, and I see her very often, at least often for London.  She really looks younger, if possible, than formerly,” etc., etc., and their talk flowed in the Jennings channel for a few minutes.

Meantime Mrs. Needham, passing her arm through Katherine’s, led her away to a very diminutive back room, draped and carpeted with Oriental stuffs, then beginning to be the fashion, and crammed with all imaginable ornaments and specimens, from bits of rare “Capo di monti” to funny sixpenny toys.  “I have just found such a treasure,” she exclaimed; “a real saucer of old Chelsea, and only a small bit out of this side.  Isn’t Angela Bradley handsome?  She is a very remarkable girl, or perhaps I ought to say woman.  She speaks four or five languages, and plays divinely; then she is a capital critic.  It was she who advised her father to publish that very singular book, The Gorgon’s Head; every publisher in London had refused it.  He took it, and has cleared—­oh, I’d be afraid to say how much money by it.”

“I hope the writer got a fair share,” said Katherine, smiling.

“Hum! ah, that’s another matter; but I dare say Bradley will treat him quite as fairly as any one else.  She will have a big fortune one of these days.  Her father perfectly adores her.”

“I wish I could write,” said Katherine, with a sigh.  “It must be a charming way to earn money.”

“Why don’t you try?  You seem to me to have plenty of brains; and I suppose you will have to do something.  I was so sorry—­” Mrs. Needham was beginning, when dinner was announced, and her sympathetic utterances were cut short.

The repast was admirable, erring perhaps on the side of plenteousness, and well served by two smart young women in black, with pink ribbons in their caps.  Nor was there any lack of bright talk a good deal beyond the average.  Miss Bradley was an admirable listener, and often by well-put questions or suggestions kept the ball rolling.  Dinner was soon over, and coffee was served in the drawing-room.

“Now, Miss Payne, I should like to consult with you,” said Miss Bradley, putting her cup on the mantel-piece, and resuming her seat on the sofa, where she invited Miss Payne by a gesture to sit beside her, “about the daughter of an old friend of mine, who does not want her to join him in India, as she is rather delicate, and he cannot retire for a couple of years.  It is time she left school, and the question is, where shall she go?”

While Miss Bradley thus attacked the subject uppermost in her mind, Mrs. Needham settled herself in an arm-chair as far as she could from the speakers, and asked Katherine to sit down beside her.