At twelve-forty Lady Brighthelmston reminded Violet (who was a h'orphan
niece) that the beautiful being in the white uniform was not the eldest
son.

At twelve-fifty there arrived an elderly gentleman, before whom the
servants bowed low. Lord Brighthelmston went to fetch Patricia, who
chanced to be sitting out a dance with Terence. The three came out on
the balcony, which was deserted, in the near prospect of supper, and the
personage--whom we suspected to be Patricia's godfather--took from his
waistcoat pocket a string of pearls, and, clasping it round her white
throat, stooped gently and kissed her forehead.

Then at one o'clock came supper. Francesca and I had secretly provided
for that contingency, and curling up on a sofa we drew toward us a
little table which Dawson had spread with a galantine of chicken, some
cress sandwiches, and a jug of milk.

At one-thirty we were quite overcome with sleep, and retired to our
beds, where of course we speedily grew wakeful.

"It is giving a ball, not going to one, that is so exhausting!" yawned
Francesca. "How many times have I danced all night with half the fatigue
that I am feeling now!"

The sound of music came across the street through the closed door of our
sitting-room. Waltz after waltz, a polka, a galop, then waltzes again,
until our brains reeled with the rhythm. As if this were not enough,
when our windows at the back were opened wide we were quite within reach
of Lady Durden's small dance, where another Hungarian band discoursed
more waltzes and galops.

"Dancing, dancing everywhere, and not a turn for us!" grumbled
Francesca. "I simply cannot sleep, can you?"

"We must make a determined effort," I advised; "don't speak again, and
perhaps drowsiness will overtake us."

It finally did overtake Francesca, but I had too much to think about--my
own problems as well as Patricia's. After what seemed to be hours of
tossing I was helplessly drawn back into the sitting-room, just to see
if anything had happened, and if the affair was ever likely to come to
an end.

It was half-past two, and yes, the ball was decidedly 'thinning out.'

The attendants in the lower hall, when they were not calling carriages,
yawned behind their hands, and stood first on one foot, and then on the
other.

Women in beautiful wraps, their heads flashing with jewels, descended
the staircase, and drove, or even walked, away into the summer night.

Lady Brighthelmston began to look ti