“The wonder to me,” said the irrepressible Mr. Judson, “is that more of these young chaps don’t get put through it.  His lordship wasn’t so wide of the mark when he spoke like that to Freddie in the library that time.  I give you my word, it’s a mercy young Freddie hasn’t been up against it!  When we were in London, Freddie and I,” he went on, cutting through Mr. Beach’s disapproving cough, “before what you might call the crash, when his lordship cut off supplies and had him come back and live here, Freddie was asking for it—­believe me!  Fell in love with a girl in the chorus of one of the theaters.  Used to send me to the stage door with notes and flowers every night for weeks, as regular as clockwork.

“What was her name?  It’s on the tip of my tongue.  Funny how you forget these things!  Freddie was pretty far gone.  I recollect once, happening to be looking round his room in his absence, coming on a poem he had written to her.  It was hot stuff—­very hot!  If that girl has kept those letters it’s my belief we shall see Freddie following in Lord Stockheath’s footsteps.”

There was a hush of delighted horror round the table.

“Goo’,” said Miss Chester’s escort with unction.  “You don’t say so, Mr. Judson!  It wouldn’t half make them look silly if the Honorable Frederick was sued for breach just now, with the wedding coming on!”

“There is no danger of that.”

It was Joan’s voice, and she had spoken with such decision that she had the ear of the table immediately.  All eyes looked in her direction.  Ashe was struck with her expression.  Her eyes were shining as though she were angry; and there was a flush on her face.  A phrase he had used in the train came back to him.  She looked like a princess in disguise.

“What makes you say that, Miss Simpson?” inquired Judson, annoyed.  He had been at pains to make the company’s flesh creep, and it appeared to be Joan’s aim to undo his work.

It seemed to Ashe that Joan made an effort of some sort as though she were pulling herself together and remembering where she was.

“Well,” she said, almost lamely, “I don’t think it at all likely that he proposed marriage to this girl.”

“You never can tell,” said Judson.  “My impression is that Freddie did.  It’s my belief that there’s something on his mind these days.  Before he went to London with his lordship the other day he was behaving very strange.  And since he came back it’s my belief that he has been brooding.  And I happen to know he followed the affair of Lord Stockheath pretty closely, for he clipped the clippings out of the paper.  I found them myself one day when I happened to be going through his things.”

Beach cleared his throat—­his mode of indicating that he was about to monopolize the conversation.