“Mr Ellis has already come.  Mr Williams will be here any moment.  We’d better go down.”

Mavis followed Mrs Hamilton to the drawing-room, where a man rose at their entrance, to whom Mavis was introduced as Miss Devereux.

He scarcely glanced at Mavis, gave her the most formal of bows, and, as the few remarks he made were directed to Mrs Hamilton, the girl had plenty of time in which to observe him.  He was elderly, tall, distinguished-looking.  He had the indefinable air of being, not only a man of wealth, but a “somebody.”  She was chiefly attracted by his grey eyes, which seemed dead and lifeless.  The underlids of these were pencilled with countless small lines, which, with the weary, dull eyes, seemed quite out of keeping with the otherwise keenly intellectual face.

Mavis secretly resented the man’s indifference to her comeliness.  A few minutes later, the servant opened the door to announce Mr Williams, whereupon a tall, sun-bronzed, smart-looking man sauntered into the room.  Something in his carriage and face suggested soldier to Mavis’s mind.  He was by no means handsome, but what might have been a somewhat plain face was made pleasant-looking by the deep sunburn and the kindliness of his expression.

Williams shook hands with Mrs Hamilton, nodded to Ellis, and then turned to Mavis.  Directly he saw her, a look of surprise came into his face; the girl could not help seeing how greatly he was struck by her appearance.  Mrs Hamilton introduced them, when he at once came to her side.

“Just think of it,” he said, “I was in no hurry to get here.  If I had only known!”

“Known what?” asked Mavis.

“That’s asking something.  In return I’m going to ask you a question.”

“Well?”

“What is it like to be so charming?”

The same question asked by another man might have offended her.  There was such a note of sincere, boyish admiration in the man’s voice, that she had said, almost before she was aware of it: 

“Rather nice.”

He said more in the same strain.  Mavis found herself greatly enjoying the thinly veiled compliments which he paid her.  It was the first time since she had grown up that she had spoken to a smart man, who was obviously a gentleman.  If this were not enough to thaw her habitual reserve, there was something strangely familiar in the young man’s face and manner; it almost seemed to Mavis as if she were talking with a very old friend or acquaintance, which was enough to justify the unusual levity of her behaviour.

Once or twice, she caught Mrs Hamilton’s eye, when she could not help seeing how her friend was much pleased at the way in which she attracted Mr Williams.

When he was taking the girl down to dinner, he murmured: 

“May I call here often?”

“There’s no charge for admission,” replied Mavis.

“It wouldn’t make any difference to me if there were.”