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at you.”
    S he turned round from contemplating her own reflection to look at Davita.
    “ Your gown’s not bad,” she said. “It’s a bit dowdy, and it’s not right for the evening, but you’ll pass.”
    H er eyes rose a little higher and she said:
    “ I remember that hat. What have you done with the feathers?”
    “ It was so kind of your mother to give it to me,” Davita said apologetically, “but it looked rather overpowering on me.”
    “ She owed you something, didn’t she,” Violet said with a touch of humour in her voice, “nipping off like that. Your father must have been a bit upset.”
    D avita drew in her breath, remembering how dreadfully upset her father had been; in fact, after he’d lost Katie he’d been incapable to cope with life at all.
    “ Yes, he minded very much,” she said in a low voice.
    “ I’m sorry,” Violet said casually, “but after all, she’d never have stuck all that empty space for long. I had a letter from her—it must be three months ago—and she was doing all right.”
    “ On Broadway?” Davita asked curiously.
    “ No, she was on tour,” Violet replied. “I gather she’d left Harry for someone else.”
    F or a moment Davita was too shocked to reply.
    I t seemed bad enough that Katie should have left her father to go to America with another man, but that she should have already left him seemed both incredible and positively wicked.
    T hen Davita told herself that she had no right to judge anybody, and she was honest enough to know that Violet was right. Katie could never have stayed in Scotland for long, especially when there had been no money to buy her all the pretty things that she expected.
    “ Do you really mean you’ve got no money?” Violet asked suddenly.
    “ Very little,” Davita replied. “My father’s Solicitors suggested they might get me a job looking after children in Edinburgh, but I thought I could find something I would like better in London.”
    “ With your looks, you don’t want to be cluttering yourself up with other people’s children!” Violet said scathingly.
    T hen she smiled.
    “You leave it to me, Davita. I’ll look after you and see you have a bit of fun for a change!”
    She put out her hand in a slightly protective manner to pat Davita on the arm.
    “ You gave me a good time when I came to Scotland,” she said, “and I’ll do the same for you.”
    T here was a sudden rat-tat on the door and a boy’s voice called:
    “Ten minutes, lidies!”
    Violet rose from the chair.
    “Where’s that Jessie?” she asked.
    As she spoke, the dresser came wending her way through the other women towards her.
    “You’ve given him the message?” Violet asked.
    “Yus, but yer’ll have to hurry if yer’re going to see ’im.”
    “I know! I know!” Violet replied. “Come on, Davita!”
    She walked across the room like a ship in full sail and Davita followed her.
    They went down the iron staircase, which now seemed even more crowded with people than it had been before.
    They greeted Violet admiringly or jokingly.
    Then when they reached the Ground Floor, Davita heard Violet speak to somebody and saw that standing just in front of the door that obviously led into the Auditorium was a man in evening-dress.
    He looked, she thought at first, very magnificent with his stiff white shirt and tail-coat, a tall, shiny top-hat on the side of his head.
    T hen at a second glance she realised that he was older than she had expected. He had heavy moustaches and side-whiskers, and his figure had thickened as if he was approaching middle-age.
    H owever, Davita could see that he was a gentleman, and the voice in which he spoke was cultured, which was made all the more obvious because Violet’s voice was, Davita had noticed before, at times slightly common.
    “ Hullo, Bertie!”
    “ You sent for me, my fair enchantress,” Lord Mundesley replied, “and of course to hear is to obey!”
    “ I haven’t got much time,” Violet said