now what Paxhorn
is--there was simply no getting away. But, now, have you saved me a
dance?"

"You do not deserve one," she said, all the irritation melting beneath
the magic of his smile and the music of his voice.

"It's a mercy," he retorted lightly, "that one does not get all one's
deserts in this world!"

"I saved you the next," she said, giving him her programme. "You see, I
am as foolishly forgiving as ever."

"You are gracious and sweet!" he murmured in her ear. "How could you
ever be otherwise?"

The soft phrase passed unreproved.

"You have been down to Barminster again?" she inquired.

"Yes," he replied, as he settled himself more comfortably.

"You have been very attentive to your father lately," she said a little
suspiciously; "I thought filial affection was not the Leroys' strong
point."

"Nor is it," he said with a laugh; "but it is business, my dear Eveline,
odious business, into which Jasper inveigles me."

"I thought Mr. Vermont was the new machine that was to save you
trouble?"

"Yes, that's what I thought," was the languid reply. "But one has to
turn the handle, even of machines. There are signatures, and leases, and
Heaven knows what besides."

"How is Lord Barminster?" she inquired.

"Splendid."

"Lady Constance also well?"--with the slightest tinge of restraint in
her voice.

"Yes," he answered indifferently; adding, "but you haven't asked after
'King Cole.'"

"Ah, no, but you would have told me at first if anything had been wrong
with him."

Leroy smiled. He knew that to be true.

"He will win, you think?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh, yes!" was the careless reply. "Vermont says there is nothing to
touch him."

The countess raised her eyebrows.

"You trust this Vermont with a great deal, Adrien. Your horses, your
wine, and your legal business. He must be a wonderful man."

"Yes," he answered confidently. "Jasper's a treasure. Nothing comes
amiss to him. I should be in my grave if I had to face half the worries
he wrestles with daily. Come," he added, as the first bars of the new
waltz floated from the gallery; and with a sigh of enjoyment she rose
for the promised dance.

"No one's step suits me like yours," she breathed, when they paused for
rest. "Adrien, shall I back 'King Cole' for another two hundred?"

The two sentences were, perhaps, rather incongruous, but curiously
characteristic of her ladyship; for, in addition to a natural love of
intrigue, she had a pa