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can’t—that’s reserved for Miss Gregory,” explained Cecil, patiently. “Here’s a nice bit for you.”
    “Oh, thank you, Mr. Cecil, my pet. Mr. Bevan!” she called as Bevan emerged from Doon’s office and walked past the table. “You are going to be out to lunch, aren’t you? because we haven’t counted you.”
    “Yes, I shall be out,” said Bevan, “and don’t serve out any for Miss Gregory; she’s having lunch with me.” He leant across the table and murmured something to Cecil before proceeding on his way upstairs.
    “There now, isn’t that tarsome,” cried Cecil, all flustered. “We’ve already done a plate for Miss Gregory, and now we shall have one too many.”
    “No, we won’t, Mr. Cecil. If Gregory’s having lunch with Mr. Bevan, then Doon isn’t, so she can have Gregory’s. Hallo, Macaroni, what do you want, my chicken?”
    “I came to tell you that Miss Doon won’t be in to lunch. I believe she’s going out with Mr. Bevan,” said Macaroni, sniggering delightedly.
    “Well, as it happens, my child, she is not going out with Mr. Bevan, because Miss Gregory is. I suppose that means,” added Rachel, sotto voce to Cecil, “that Gregory’s definitely going to Deauville?”
    “Yes, she is. Mr. Bevan told me so when he whispered across the table. He rang me up over the week-end about it, and he said that he thought after all he would send Miss Gregory.”
    “I wonder if she knows?”
    “Well, they were together all this morning, before they came to the shop; I expect he told her.”
    “Why has he decided on her, Mr. Cecil, do you know?”
    Cecil tossed back his fair hair, and gave her a confidential look. “Perhaps Miss Gregory was becoming rather tarsome.…”
    Aileen and Judy strolled downstairs. “Isn’t lunch ready yet?”
    “No, I’m sorry,” said Rachel. “Mr. Cecil and I are in a huddle together. Put the rest of the vegetables out for me, one of you, will you, like a darling? That’s yours, Aileen, with extra potatoes—how you can do it, I don’t know! None on this one for me and only a little for Victoria and lots of greens here for Doon. Not all that lot, you idiot,” she added, as Aileen half-emptied the vegetable-dish on to Doon’s plate. “You do it, Judy, for goodness’ sake. Macaroni, don’t stand like a lump, child! Help Mrs. ’Arris put the plates in the hot-cupboard; better keep Miss Doon’s apart till we see what she’s doing.…” She returned to her confidences with Cecil.
    Gregory came downstairs. She looked rather white and excited and Rachel felt sure that she knew of Bevan’s decision. She could not stifle her complacency at having a luncheon date and went off with a good deal of parade to tell “poor Doon” that Bevan had changed his arrangements.
    “She needn’t look so damn delighted,” said Rachel to Cecil, scowling after Gregory’s cocksure back. “As soon as she’s well away, bang will go what little chance she ever had with her precious Bevan. Doon’ll have him good and proper then.”
    “Or somebody else,” said Cecil, insinuatingly.
    “Good heavens, don’t palm him off on me ,” said Rachel, laughing. “They can tear him to bits for all I care, and have half each.”
    Victoria came downstairs again and collected her lunch from the hot-cupboard nearest the table. “Don’t forget, Mr. Cecil, that you have to be at the Ritz by two. Irene’ll be all ready, she’s got her hat and things upstairs.” She sat down at the dining-table and the others joined her, each carrying a plate of food; they had started their meal when Gregory returned with a troubled and angry Doon. “Is my lunch in the hot-cupboard…. which, the further one?” She went to the cupboard and got out the plate.… “Here, Doon dear, take this. I’m so sorry about it, but Mr. Bevan just wants to talk over a little business with me—I expect he’ll ask you out tomorrow to make up for it.…” She advanced to the table, half-propelling Doon, who