“Mr. Carter has asked me to see that the family is alone to-night,” Harriet said, courageously, “but of course he may feel that you are an exception,” she added, with the impersonal air of a mere employee.  “I only want to be able to tell him that I repeated his request, and told you the reason for it.  That’s”—­and she smiled pleasantly—­“that is as far as my authority goes, of course.  I shall say simply that you know of his wishes, and if you remain, I know I can say that it was to please Nina!”

And now the two women exchanged an open glance that needed no pretence and no concealment, and it was a glance of enmity.

“When I visit this house it is not at your invitation, Miss Field!” said Mrs. Tabor, frankly.  “I am aware of that,” Harriet said, simply.

“Will you be so kind as to tell Nina and Madame Carter,” the visitor was resuming her wraps, and arranging her handsome hat and veil, “that I will be here to-morrow, and that anything I can do I will be so glad to do!—­Is that Mrs. Warren’s car, Bottomley?  Thank you.  Good afternoon, Miss Field!”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Tabor!” Harriet followed her to the hall door, and heard a Parthian shot, ad-dressed in a cheerfully high voice to kindly old Mrs. Warren, Mrs. Fordyce’s mother, who was in the limousine.

“Nobody home!  All my trouble for nothing!”

Old Mrs. Warren leaned against the frosted glass; waved from the holly-dressed interior at Harriet, and the girl saw her lips frame “Merry Christmas!” The door slammed; Bottomley came with stately footsteps up to the hall again.  Harriet gave a little laugh of triumph.  Now the coast was clear!

Thus it was that Richard Carter found only his mother and his children at the dinner table that night, and no guests under his roof.  Miss Field, to be sure, was at the head of the table, but then Miss Field was a member of the family.  He interrogated her briefly as they went in.

“Ward’s gang?  That Eaton ass?”

“Oh, they went yesterday!”

“Speak to Bottomley?”

“Yes.  He and Pilgrim are quite reconciled to remaining.”  Harriet buttoned a cuff, to hide a dimple that would come to the corner of her mouth.  “And Mrs. Tabor came, and would have stayed,” she could not resist the temptation to add, “but I persuaded her that some other time would be better!”

“Scene with Nina about it?” Richard had asked, curiously.

“Nina was not here,” Harriet answered.  And there was a faint smile in the deep blue eyes that she raised suddenly to his.

“Ah, well, I knew of course that you would manage it!” he said, contentedly.  “It seems black art to me.  I had enough of it!”

She smiled again, and went quietly to her place.  But when he summoned Ward and Nina to his mother’s room, after dinner, she had disappeared, and the family was quite alone when he broke the news to them.