Guy Faux, was--was--myself.'

'Not yourself! Really, I am a simple personage. I believe in my eyes and
trust to my ears. I am at a loss for your meaning.'

'I mean, then,' said the Duke, who had gained time to rally, 'that this
monster was some impostor, who must have stolen my carriage, picked my
pocket, and robbed me of my card, which, next to his reputation, is a
man's most delicate possession.'

'Then you never called upon us?'

'I blush to confess it, never; but I will call, in future, every day.'

'Your ingenuousness really rivals your modesty.'

'Now, after these confessions and compliments, may I suggest a waltz?'

'No one is waltzing now.'

'When the quadrille, then, is finished?'

'Then I am engaged.'

'After your engagement?'

'That is indeed making a business of pleasure. I have just refused
a similar request of your fellow-steward. We damsels shall soon be
obliged to carry a book to enrol our engagements as well as our bets, if
this system of reversionary dancing be any longer encouraged.'

'But you must dance with me!' said the Duke, imploringly.

'Oh! you will stumble upon me in the course of the evening, and I shall
probably be more fortunate.

I suppose you feel nervous about to-morrow?'

'Not at all.'

'Ah! I forgot. Your Grace's horse is the favourite. Favourites always
win.'

'Have I a horse?'

'Why, Lord St. Jerome says he doubts whether it be one.'

'Lord St. Jerome seems a vastly amusing personage; and, as he is so
often taken for an ostler, I have no doubt is an exceedingly good judge
of horse-flesh.'

Miss Dacre smiled. It was that wild, but rather wicked, gleam which
sometimes accompanies the indulgence of innocent malice. It seemed to
insinuate, 'I know you are piqued, and I enjoy it' But here her hand was
claimed for the waltz.

The young Duke remained musing.

'There she swims away! By heavens! unrivalled! And there is Lady Afy
and Burlington; grand, too. Yet there is something in this little Dacre
which touches my fancy more. What is it? I think it is her impudence.
That confounded scrape of Carlstein! I will cashier him to-morrow.
Confound his airs! I think I got out of it pretty well. To-night, on
the whole, has been a night of triumph; but if I do not waltz with the
little Dacre I will only vote myself an ovation. But see, here comes Sir
Lucius. Well! how fares my brother consul?'

'I do not like this rain. I have been hedging with Hounslow, having
previou