But at that the cigarette was suddenly whisked from the soft lips and
pointed full at her. "Allegro,"--it was Violet Campion's special name
for her, and she uttered it weightily,--"mark my words and ponder them
well! You have met your fate!"

"Violet! How dare you say such a thing?" Olga turned crimson with
indignant protest. "I haven't! I wouldn't! It's horrid of you to talk
like that!"

"Quite indecent, dear, I admit. But have you never noticed how indecent
the truth can be? What a pity to waste such a lovely blush on me! I
presume he hasn't begun to make love to you yet?"

"Of course he hasn't! No man would be such a fool with you within
reach!" thrust back Olga, goaded to self-defence.

"But I am not within reach," said Violet, with a twirl of the cigarette.

"Far more so than I," returned Olga with spirit. "Anyhow, he never went
out of his way to have tea with me."

A peal of laughter from her companion put a swift end to her
indignation. Violet was absolutely irresistible when she laughed. It was
utterly impossible to be indignant with her.

"Then you think if I am there perhaps he will be persuaded to stay at
home to tea?" she chuckled mischievously. "Well, my dear, I'll come, and
we will play at battledore and shuttlecock to your heart's content. But
if the young man turns and rends us for our pains--and I have a shrewd