laire, she laid her hand on the
extended arm, with all the good will in the world, and made a triumphant
passage through the crowd, which smiled upon her as though agreeing that
it was now her turn to be amused.

"This table, I think!" Captain Fanshawe said, leading the way to the
furthest corner of the dining-room, and Claire found herself sipping a
hot cup of soup, and realising that the world was an agreeable place,
and that it was folly ever to allow oneself to be downhearted, since
such delightful surprises awaited round corners ready to transform the
grey into gold!

Captain Fanshawe looked exactly as memory had pictured him--plain of
feature, distinguished in bearing, grave, self-contained, yet with that
lurking light in his eyes which showed that humour lay beneath. Claire
smiled at him across the table, and asked an obvious question--

"Rather a different meeting-place from our last! Did you know me at
once?"

"I did," he said, and added deliberately, "Just as you knew me."

"Oh, well!" Claire tried to look unconcerned. "Men are always pretty
much the same. Evening dress does not make the same difference to
them."

She knew a momentary fear lest he should believe she was fishing for a
compliment, and give the ordinary banal reply; but he looked at her with
a grave scrutiny, and asked quietly--

"Was that one of the frocks which went astray?"

"Yes! All of it. It wasn't even divided in half."

"It was a good thing the box turned up!" he said; and there, after all,
was the compliment, but so delicately inferred that the most fastidious
taste could not object.

With the finishing of the soup came the first reference to Claire's
work, for the Captain's casual "Do you care for anything solid, or would
you prefer a sweet?" evoked a round-eyed stare of dismay.

"Oh, _please_!" cried Claire deeply. "I want to go straight through.
I've been living on mutton and cabbage for over two months, and cooking
suppers on a chafing-dish. I looked forward to supper as part of the
treat!"

The plain face lightened into a delightful smile.

"That's all right!" he cried. "Now we know where we are. I hadn't much
dinner myself, so I'm quite game. Let us study the book of the words."

A _menu_ lay on the table, a square white card emblazoned with many
golden words. Captain Fanshawe drew his chair nearer, and ran his
finger down the list, while Claire bent forward to signify a yea or nay.
Every delicacy in