It did not take Peter long to feel that Vivette was wholly right. He blushed to recall how he had justified her indictment by the way in which he had received it.

That evening he made a plan. He had called the immediate future to account, and found he had six months to spare without much prospect of being usefully absorbed.

"I must get away from all this," he decided.

At the end of an evening spent restlessly at home, he startled Mrs. Paragon with the prospect of six months on the high seas.

"We will have a yacht," he told her. "I want to learn all about sailing. We'll go right away."

Mrs. Paragon calmly considered this. She was alarmed for Peter, though she did not know the extent of his last infatuation. Peter had instinctively kept Vivette out of his conversation. His mother and Vivette moved in different circles, and they had not yet met. Mrs. Paragon only knew that Peter had recently become profoundly interested in the theatre. Nevertheless Mrs. Paragon perceived as clearly as Vivette how things were with him.

"Where do you think of going?" She showed no surprise at his sudden idea.

"Anywhere," said Peter vaguely.

"When do you think of starting?"

"Immediately."

Mrs. Paragon realised that something had happened.

"This is very sudden," she suggested.

"I've been thinking, mother."

"Is that all?" Mrs. Paragon inquired, quite innocent of any desire to be satirical. She merely asked.

"I ought to be doing something," Peter explained. "I know all this law stuff by heart. I'm sick of London."

"I thought you were so interested in everything."

"No, mother."

"Not in the theatre?"

Again Mrs. Paragon merely asked.

"That's over now," said Peter.

Mrs. Paragon reached at the heart of things in one sure gesture of the mind.

"What has she said to you?" she calmly inquired.

Peter stared in the manner of one whose thoughts are unexpectedly read.

"I asked her to marry me."

"She refused?"

"She wants me to think of something else."

Mrs. Paragon wondered a moment why an actress had refused. She also wondered whether the actress might not change her mind.

"I will come with you, Peter," she said decisively.

Peter flung himself with ardour into the work of finding a boat and getting together a crew. His condition was well known to Atterbury, who persuaded Haversham to help him in getting Peter equipped. They hunted out a skipper in Havre whose quality they knew, Atterbury going to interview and bring him over. It was decided they should sail immediately.

Vivette was soberly pleased at the success of her one good action.

"I've ordered Peter into the South Seas," she told Atterbury. "I think he'll be safe from the brown ladies."

It was arranged that Peter should give a farewell dinner. Atterbury insisted on the Savoy, and tactfully picked a day when the Wenderbys were to be out of town. He frankly discussed the position over Mrs. Paragon's dinner-table in Curzon Street. Vivette was there—accepted by Mrs. Paragon with large reserve.

"We want all Peter's friends," he said, "except those who cannot be present. It will be an advantage if Lady Mary is far away. She doesn't go at all well with Vivette."

"Agreed," said Vivette. "She would snuff me out. This is to be my feast. I hardly know whether I ought to allow Mrs. Paragon," she added.

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Paragon shortly.

"But it isn't nonsense," persisted Vivette. "I shall simply disappear beside you."

"Then you must make up your mind to it," said Atterbury. "I'm arranging this dinner, and I must have Mrs. Paragon. I have given up Lady Mary."

"We ought to have Lady Mary on the mantelpiece," said Vivette. "She'd go so well with the china."

"Envy," Atterbury retorted. "You say that because you can't sit still, and haven't a decent feature in your face."

"Lady Mary is the most beautiful woman in the world," Peter solemnly intervened.

"Hark to the oracle," cried Vivette.

"He's not far wrong," said Atterbury. "My heart always beats a little faster when she comes suddenly round the corner in a crush."

"Her mouth is all wrong."

"Glass houses, Vivette—you've nothing but your figure and the noise you make."

"You agree with Peter?"

"Not entirely. Lady Mary's good for a queen."

"She's the most beautiful woman in the world," Peter insisted.

"You're wrong, Peter. I saw the most beautiful woman in the world four days ago."

"This is interesting," said Vivette.

"It was in the boat from Havre. I saw at once how beautiful she was and looked after her. She is now at Claridge's and refuses to see me. I think she's from Brittany. Maddened by her extreme loveliness, I indiscreetly dreamed she might come to our dinner."

"Just as we are sending Peter safely out of harm's way," exclaimed Vivette. "You must have lost your senses."

"I have."

"What is her name?" Peter asked.

"You see," said Vivette, "you have already excited the poor boy."

"I have got her picture."

"Is it a funny one?" asked Vivette.

"I'm more than a caricaturist. I made a sketch of her on deck when she wasn't looking. What do you think of her, Mrs. Paragon?"

Mrs. Paragon took the sketch and quietly examined it.

"I should like her to come to Peter's dinner," she said. "What is her name?"

"Mdlle. Le Roy," said Atterbury.

Vivette looked at Mrs. Paragon in astonishment.

"May I look?" she asked. Mrs. Paragon handed her the sketch.

"Yes," said Vivette, "she is certainly beautiful."

Atterbury turned to her:

"She will be worse for you than Lady Mary."

"That was my nonsense. I love a beautiful woman." She handed back the picture.

"Peter hasn't seen it. He may not approve," she warned Atterbury.

"I'm arranging this dinner," said Atterbury. "Still Peter may look."

"I'll wait for the original," Peter growled.

"Where do you say she is staying?" said Peter's mother to Atterbury.

Atterbury wrote out the name and address on a card and gave it to Mrs. Paragon.

"I see this is your affair," he said. "I rely on you."

Mrs. Paragon now took Vivette into the drawing-room. Peter and his friend talked yachting shop, and gave them time to become better acquainted.

Mrs. Paragon did not take kindly to Vivette, but she realised that, as a mother, she owed her something, and she tried to put away her distrust. They talked without reserve, so far as appearance went; but Vivette knew she was not admitted far. She ruefully accepted the inevitable. She did not understand at all why Mrs. Paragon had taken it into her head to bring a stranger into Peter's farewell. Mrs. Paragon mildly baffled her polite astonishment.

"Is it quite fair to me?" asked Vivette, still talking of Mdlle. Le Roy. "I think I deserve to be considered. I'm sending Peter away."

"He will come back," said Mrs. Paragon briefly.

"Safe and sound," Vivette put in.

"Then you may change your mind."

"I can be really serious in some ways."

"There is a risk," Mrs. Paragon insisted.

Her obstinacy reminded Vivette of Peter at his worst.

"There is always a risk," she protested. "You can't tie Peter up."

"No: I can't tie Peter up," Mrs. Paragon agreed, shutting her lips.

Vivette tried to get in by another door.

"Mdlle. Le Roy," she suggested, "is going to efface me."

"Why should I wish it?" Mrs. Paragon innocently inquired.

"Perhaps you like the look of her."

"I do."

Vivette sighed.

"Peter won't have a very happy farewell," she said.

A week later Atterbury remembered his beautiful stranger only as a guest to be identified by a card upon the table. Peter had entirely forgotten her, and Vivette, looking forward to an evening of light pleasure, agreeably dashed with regret, did not take Mdlle. Le Roy into serious account.

The whole party was assembled in the Pinafore rooms at the Savoy, but Mrs. Paragon had not yet arrived. Peter had come early to approve the arrangements Atterbury had made, and had left his mother to follow by way of Claridge's. He was talking now with Haversham.

Vivette saw a light leap suddenly into Peter's eyes. He seemed like one confronted with a miracle.

"This," Vivette bitterly concluded, "is love at first sight."

But Vivette was wrong. Peter's brain was dazzled as by lightning. A flood of forgotten life was loosed upon him out of the past. He was looking at Miranda.

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