great deal about every subject under the sun--of having read everything,
and been everywhere, but her interest in other people was real. That was
what made people like her.

Young Coniston, shy, sensitive and reserved as he was, had nevertheless
told her all about his training at Braintree, the boredom of getting up
early, the dampness of the tents, and how much he wanted to be sent to
the front. She admired his valour, was interested in his music, and at
her persuasion he promised to sing her songs of Araby after dinner.

When the ladies were alone Eglantine's universal fascination was even
more remarkable. Mrs. Mitchell, at her desire, gave her the address of
the little dressmaker who ran up Mrs. Mitchell's blouses and skirts.
This was an honour for Mrs. Mitchell; nothing pleased her so much as to
be asked for the address of her dressmaker by a woman with a
foreign name.

As to Miss Coniston, she was enraptured with Eglantine. Madame Frabelle
arranged to go and see her little exhibition of tooled leather, and
coaxed out of the shy girl various details about the celebrity, who at
present had an ambulance in France. She adored reciting, and Miss
Coniston, to gratify her, offered to recite a poem by Emile Cammaerts
on the spot.

As to Mr. Mitchell, Madame Frabelle drew him out with more care and
caution. With the obstinacy of the mistaken she still saw in Mr.
Mitchell's friendly looks at his hostess a passion for Edith, and shook
her grey head over the blindness of the poor dear wife.

Bruce hung on her words and was open-mouthed while she spoke, so