Loder turned aside to hide his vexation, but Eve greeted their host with her usual self-possessed smile.

“You are exempt from all penalties to-night,” she said.  Then she turned to greet the members of his party who had strolled across from the window in his wake.

As she moved aside Bramfell looked at Loder.  “Well, Chilcote, have you dipped into the future yet?” he asked, with a laugh.

Loder echoed the laugh but said nothing.  In his uncertainty at the question he reverted to his old resource of silence.

Bramfell raised his eyebrows.  “What!” he said.  “Don’t tell me that my sister-in-law hasn’t engaged you as a victim.”  Then he turned in Eve’s direction.  “You’ve heard of our new departure, Mrs. Chilcote?”

Eve looked round from the lively group by which she was surrounded.  “Lillian’s crystal-gazing?  Why, of course!” she said.  “She should make a very beautiful seer.  We are all quite curious.”

Bramfell pursed up his lips.  “She has a very beautiful tent at the end of the conservatory.  It took five men as many days to rig it up.  We couldn’t hear ourselves talk, for hammering.  My wife said it made her feel quite philanthropic, it reminded her so much of a charity bazaar.”

Everybody laughed; and at the same moment Blessington came quickly across the room and joined the group.

“Hallo!” he said.  “Anybody seen Witcheston?  He’s next on my list for the crystal business.”

Again the whole party laughed, and Bramfell, stepping forward, touched Blessington’s arm in mock seriousness.

“Witcheston is playing bridge, like a sensible man,” he said.  “Leave him in peace, Bobby.”

Blessington made a comical grimace.  “But I’m working this on commercial principles,” he said.  “I keep the list, names and hours complete, and Lady Astrupp gazes, in blissful ignorance as to who her victims are.  The whole thing is great—­simple and statistical.”

“For goodness’ sake, Bobby, shut up!” Bramfell’s round eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“But my system—­”

“Systems!  Ah, we all had them when we were as young as you are!”

“And they all had flaws, Bobby,” Eve broke in.  “We were always finding gaps that had to be filled up.  Never mind about Lord Witcheston.  Get a substitute; it won’t count—­if Lillian doesn’t know.”

Blessington wavered as she spoke.  His eyes wandered round the party and again rested on Bramfell.

“Not me, Bobby!  Remember, I’ve breathed crystals—­practically lived on them—­for the last week.  Now, there’s Chilcote—­” Again his eyes twinkled.

All eyes were turned on Loder, though one or two strayed surreptitiously to Eve.  She, seeming sensitive to the position, laughed quickly.

“A very good idea!” she said.  “Who wants to see the future, if not a politician?”

Loder glanced from her to Blessington.  Then, with a very feminine impulse, she settled the matter beyond dispute.