AND so it was that Pippa’s impulsive invitation brought the lady of the blue dress once more into Miss Mason’s surroundings.  
And with her advent came one of the brightest threads which the Fates were using to weave into the hitherto sombre pattern of her life. For there is never any knowing what the Fates will do. For years the woof of their weaving may be utterly grey, but if the warp has kept firm and strong they may suddenly take the brightest colours—a very crazy patchwork of them—and weave them into the most intricate and curious pattern imaginable. And because the strength of the warp of this life pleased them, they were now choosing the most fantastically coloured threads in the weaving of the woof.
 
Pippa told Miss Mason of the invitation she had issued, and then went to wash her hands and brush her hair. There was no need to change her dress. She had already put on her prettiest frock to lunch with Paul.
 
Just before half-past three there was a knock at the door. Pippa looked up expectant. But it was only Barnabas.
 
 
“Hullo!” he said, coming in and seeing the tea-things on the table—Sally would be occupied with hot cakes at the last moment—“you’re expecting company.”
 
“The Duchessa di Corleone, Monsieur Paul, and Monsieur Christopher,” Pippa told him.
 
“Shall I be in the way?” asked Barnabas, looking at Miss Mason, “or may I stay?”
 
“You are never in the way,” said Miss Mason decisively.
 
Pippa sat down near him and slid one hand into his. And Miss Mason looked at them, and thought that only a year ago, and perhaps at that very hour, she had been sitting in a stiff drawing-room furnished with hideous chairs and ornamented with wax flowers under glass shades, listening to a long and minute account of Miss Stanhope’s ill-health, sleeplessness, and want of appetite. And because the contrast was so very great, her eyes grew a trifle misty with unshed happy tears, and she said a little prayer, that was certainly more Catholic than her distinctly Broad Church views realized, for Miss Stanhope’s present welfare.
 
And then suddenly voices were heard outside the studio, a woman’s voice which Miss Mason seemed to recognize, and a man laughing.
 
The next moment Sally opened the door. Her eyes were round with awe.
 
“The Duchess——” the next words were indistinguishable—“Mr. Charlton, and Mr. Treherne,” she gasped. Already in her mind she was telling Jim that she had had the honour of ushering a real live Duchess into the studio.
 
The Duchessa di Corleone came into the room. Then she gave a little exclamation of astonishment and went forwards with outstretched hands.
 
“My fairy godmother!” she cried. And she was nearer truth than she had any idea as she spoke the words.
 
“The lady in the blue dress!” said Miss Mason, her face radiant with pleasure.
 
“So you two know each other,” said Paul.
 
“We met—when was it—last May?” said Sara. “May I introduce Mr. Charlton.” And the man whom Miss Mason had seen in the lounge of the Wilton Hotel bowed.
 
“It is,” said the Duchessa when she was seated, and after Barnabas had been introduced, “quite the most unexpected and delightful meeting. It was not till I was on my way to Italy that I remembered I had never asked your name.” And then she told the others of their first meeting.
 
“And has it all,” she asked, “been just as delightful as I prophesied?”
 
“More delightful,” said Miss Mason promptly. She was looking at Christopher. She remembered the “Christopher, darling,” and her mind, woman-like, was keen on the secret of a romance.
 
Sara saw her glance. By a flash of intuition she guessed something of what was passing in [Pg 171]Miss Mason’s mind. It gave her an opportunity she had been looking for during the last hour and a half.
 
“Christopher came to fetch me that evening to take me to an At Home, I remember. He is an extraordinarily useful person. I have known him since I was ten years old.”
 
The words were addressed to Miss Mason. They were intended for another occupant of the studio.
 
“I remember,” said Christopher, “our first meeting. It was, I think, unique.”
 
“In what way?” asked Paul.
 
“The Duchessa and her parents,” said Christopher, “had taken a house in Devonshire, at Salcombe, as a matter of fact, where I then lived. My mother, being of a hospitable turn of mind, and also of opinion that young men should make themselves generally useful, sent me across the road to enquire of Captain and Mrs. de Courcy if I could be of any assistance to them. I went. I found the Duchessa seated on the veranda on an overturned flower-pot. She was engaged in teaching ‘nap’ to three small boys who had come in from the next door garden, also with hospitable intentions. I found Mrs. de Courcy disentangling silver f............