When Braybrooke was alone he felt almost tired out. If he had been an
Italian he would probably have believed that someone had looked on him
that day with the evil eye. He feared that he had been almost maladroit.
His social self-confidence was severely shaken. And yet he had only
meant well; he had only been trying to do what he considered his duty.
It had all begun with Miss Cronin's preposterous mistake. That had
thoroughly upset him, and from that moment he had not been in possession
of his normal means. And now he was let in for a party combining
Adela Sellingworth with Miss Van Tuyn and Craven. It was singularly
unfortunate. But probably Lady Sellingworth would refuse the invitation
he now had to send her. She really went out very seldom. He could only
hope for a refusal. That, too, was tragic. He could not remember ever
before having actively wished that an invitation of his should be
declined.

He was so reduced in self-confidence and spirits that he turned into the
St. James's Club, sank down alone in a remote corner, and called for
a dry Martini, although he knew quite well that it would set up
fermentation.




PART FOUR



CHAPTER I

Lady Sellingworth was "not at home" when Miss Van Tuyn called, though no