"Auntie," he cried, "what do you think? You'll never guess. I'm going
to lunch with Mr St Aubyn on Thursday!"

Aunt Charlotte turned round, looking slightly dazed.

"Going to lunch with whom?" she asked.

"With Mr St Aubyn. You know--he lives at Moorcombe Court. I met him in
the woods and had a long talk with him, and now he's going to show me
all his pictures--_and_ his engravings--_and_ his wonderful orchids
and things. I'm to spend all the afternoon with him. Isn't it
splendid! I could never have hoped for such an opportunity. And he's
so awfully nice--so cultured and clever, you know--"

"Really!" said Aunt Charlotte, drawing herself up. "Well, you're
vastly honoured, Austin, I must say. Mr St Aubyn is chary of his
civilities. It is very kind of him to ask you, I'm sure, but I think
it's rather a liberty all the same."

"A liberty!" repeated Austin, aghast.

"He has never called on me," returned Aunt Charlotte, statelily. "If
he had wished to cultivate our acquaintance, that would have been at
least the usual thing to do. However, of course I've no objection. On
Thursday, you say. Well, now just give me your attention to something
rather more important. I intend to invite some people here to tea next
week, and you may as well write the invitations for me now."

Austin's face lengthened. "Oh, why?" he sighed. "It isn't as though