is here, I hope?" pursued Piers; not with any offensive
presumption, but speaking as he thought, rather impetuously.

"I believe Miss Derwent is in the room," was the answer, uttered with
singular gravity and accompanied with a particularly freezing look.

This time, Piers could not but feel that Eustace Derwent was speaking
oddly. In his peculiar condition, however, he thought it only an
amusing characteristic of the young man. He smiled, and was about to
continue the dialogue, when, with a slight, quick bow, the other turned
away.

"Disagreeable fellow, that!" said Piers to himself. "I hope the Doctor
isn't like him. Who could imagine him Irene's brother?"

His spirits were not in the least affected; indeed, every moment they
grew more exuberant, as the wine he had drunk wrought progressively
upon his brain. Only he could have wished that his cheeks and ears did
not burn so; seeing himself again in a glass, he decided that he was
really too high-coloured. It would pass, no doubt. Meanwhile, his eyes
kept seeking Miss Derwent. The longer she escaped him, the more
vehement grew his agitation. Ah, there!

She was seated, and had been hidden by a little group standing in
front. At this moment, Eustace Derwent was bending to speak to her; she
gave a nod in reply to what he said. As soon as the objectionable
brother moved from her side, Piers stepped quickly forward.

"How delightful to meet you here! It seems too good to be true. I
called this afternoon at your house--called to see you--but you were
not at home. I little imagined I should see you this evening."

Irene raised her eyes, and let them fall back upon her fan; raised them
again, and observed the speaker attentively.

"I was told you had called, Mr. Otway."

How her voice thrilled him! What music like that voice! It made him
live through his agonies again, which by contrast heightened the
rapture of this hour.

"May I sit down by you?"

"Pray do."

He remarked nothing of her coldness; he was conscious only of her
presence, of the perfume which breathed from her and made his heart
faint with longing.

Irene again glanced at him, and her countenance was troubled. She
looked to left and right, sure that they were not overheard, and
addressed him with quick directness.

"Where did you dine, Mr. Otway?"

"Dine?--Oh, at a restaurant, with one of my brothers and his wife."

"Did your brother and his wife accompany you to this house?"

Piers was st