It was Mrs. Otter herself who took Wolf’s hat and stick away from him now; and as he shook hands with the little lady, he was driven by an unexpected impulse to bend down and give her a hurried kiss.

“It seems the fashion,” he muttered awkwardly, as he turned to greet Jason and T. E. Valley.

“I mustn’t stay for more than this,” he found himself saying presently, as he emptied his soup-plate and lifted his wineglass to his lips. “Darnley says Gerda won’t touch her supper till I get home.”

“You don’t know, of course, how our little girl is behaving?” said Mrs. Otter. “Miss Malakite isn’t spoiling her too much, I hope?”