Eve, looking back, saw the expression.  It attracted and held her, like a sudden glimpse into a secret room.  In all the years of her marriage, in the months of her courtship even, she had never surprised the look on Chilcote’s face.  The impression came quickly. and with it a strange, warm rush of interest that receded slowly, leaving an odd sense of loneliness.  But, at the moment that the feeling came and passed, her attention was claimed in another direction.  A slight, fair-haired boy forced his way towards her through the press of people that filled the corridor.

“Mrs. Chilcote!” he exclaimed.  “Can I believe my luck in finding you alone?”

Eve laughed.  It seemed that there was relief in her laugh.  “How absurd you are, Bobby!” she said, kindly.  “But you are wrong.  My husband is here—­I am waiting for him.”

Blessington looked round.  “Oh!” he said.  “Indeed!” Then he relapsed into silence.  He was the soul of good-nature, but those who knew him best knew that Chilcote’s summary change of secretaries had rankled.  Eve, conscious of the little jar, made haste to smooth it away.

“Tell me about yourself,” she said.  “What have you been doing?”

Blessington looked at her, then smiled again, his buoyancy restored.  “Doing?” he said.  “Oh, calling every other afternoon at Grosvenor Square—­only to find that a certain lady is never at home.”

At his tone Eve laughed again.  The boy, with his frank and ingenuous nature, had beguiled many a dull hour for her in past days, and she had missed him not a little when his place had been filled by Greening.

“But I mean seriously, Bobby.  Has something good turned up?”

Blessington made a wry face “Something is on its way—­that’s why I am on duty to-right.  Old Bramfell and the pater are working it between them.  So if Lady Bramfell or Lady Astrupp happen to drop a fan or a handkerchief this evening, I’ve got to be here to pick it up.  See?”

“As you picked up my fans and handkerchiefs last year—­and the year before?” Eve smiled.

Blessington’s face suddenly looked grave.  “I wish you hadn’t said that,” he said.  Then he paused abruptly.  Out of the hum of talk behind them a man’s laugh sounded.  It was not loud, but it was a laugh that one seldom hears in a London drawing-room —­it expressed interest, amusement, and in an inexplicable may it seemed also to express strength.

Eve and Blessington both turned involuntarily.

“By Jove!” said Blessington

Eve said nothing.

Loder was parting with Lakely, and his was the laugh that had attracted them both.  The interest excited by his talk was still reflected in his face and bearing as he made his way towards them.

“By Jove!” said Blessington again.  “I never realized that Chilcote was so tall.”

Again Eve said nothing.  But silently and with a more subtle meaning she found herself echoing the words.