And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. . She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. “I wrote it for you. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. “Every one raves about her,” Lady Angela continued. “He sees through it all. I saw him lying on the footway.
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