talk about school any
more. To-night is for fun!"

The next hour passed on flying feet, while Claire sat the queen of a
little court, and Janet Willoughby flitted to and fro, bringing up fresh
arrivals to be introduced, and drafting off the last batch to other
parts of the crowded rooms. All the men were agreeable and amusing, and
showed a flattering appreciation of their position. Claire felt no more
interest in one than in another, but she liked them all, and felt a
distinct pleasure in talking to men again after the convent-like
existence of the last months. She was pleased to welcome a new-comer,
smiled unconcerned at a farewell.

From time to time the buzz of voices was temporarily broken by the crash
of the piano, but always before the end of each performance it rose
again, and steadily swelled in volume. In truth, the excellence of the
performance was no great inducement to listen, and Mrs Willoughby's
forehead showed a pucker of anxiety. She drifted across to Claire's
corner, and spoke a few kindly words of welcome, which ended in a half
apology.

"I am sorry the music is so poor. It varies so much on different
nights. Sometimes we have quite a number of good singers, but to-night
there are none. I am afraid so much piano grows a little boring."

She looked in the girl's face with a quick inquiry.

"Do _you_ sing?"

"No-o." The word seemed final, yet there was an unmistakable hesitation
in Claire's voice. Mrs Willoughby's glance sharpened.

"But you do something? Play? Recite? What is it? My dear, I should
be so grateful!"

"I--whistle!" confessed Claire with a blush, and a little babble of
delight greeted the words. Every one who heard hailed the chance of a
variety in the monotonous programme. Mrs Willoughby beamed with all
the relief of a hostess unexpectedly relieved of anxiety.

"Delightful! Charming! My dear, it will be such a help! You would
like an accompaniment? I'll introduce you to Mr Helder. He can play
anything you like. Will you come now! I am sure every one will be
charmed."

There was no time for a second thought. The next moment the long-haired
Mr Helder was bowing over Claire's hand, and professing his delight.
The little group in the corner were pressing forward to obtain a point
of vantage, and throughout the company in general was passing a wordless
hum of excitement. Mr Helder was seating himself at the piano, a girl
in a white dress had ascended the