"You are one of them, Mrs. Wyndham," he answered, looking at her.

"I am much obliged," she replied, demurely. "Any one else?"

"Oh--John Harrington," said Vancouver with a little laugh.

"Really?" said Mrs. Wyndham, innocently; "I did not know you were such
good friends."

Mr. Vancouver sipped his tea in silence for a moment and stared at the
fire.

"I have a great respect for Harrington," he said at last. "He interests me
very much, and I like to meet him." He spoke seriously, as though
thoroughly in earnest. The faintest look of amusement came to Mrs.
Wyndham's face for a moment.

"I am glad of that," she said; "Mr. Harrington is a very good friend of
mine. Do you mind lighting those candles? The days are dreadfully short."

Pocock Vancouver rose with alacrity and performed the service required.

"By the way," said Mrs. Wyndham, watching him, "I have a surprise for
you."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, an immense surprise. Do you remember Sybil Brandon?"

"Charlie Brandon's daughter? Very well--saw her at Newport some time ago.