woman; but seeing that
I am by you, and not by her, I suppose it is a proof that I prefer your
society, is it not?"

Very polite, but not strictly true, Captain Maurice! At his heart he
preferred talking to Lady Anderleigh, or to any other woman in the room.
The admission, however, was quite enough for Helen.

"Dear Maurice," she whispered, "forgive me; I am a jealous, bad-tempered
wretch, but," lower still, "it is only because I love you so much."

And had there been no one in the room, Maurice knew perfectly that at
this juncture Mrs. Romer would have cast her arms around his neck--as
usual.

To his unspeakable relief, a man--a clever lawyer, whose attention was a
flattering thing to any woman--came up to Helen at this moment, and took
a vacant chair beside her. Maurice thankfully slipped away, leaving his
inamorata in a state of rage and disgust with that talented and elderly
lawyer, such as no words can describe.

Captain Kynaston took the favourable opportunity of escaping across the
hall, where he spent the remainder of the evening, dividing his attention
between the music and supper rooms, and Helen saw him no more that night.

She saw, however, some one she had not reckoned upon seeing. Glancing
carelessly across to the end of the room, she perceived, talking to Lady
Kynaston, a little French gentleman, with a smooth black head, a neat,
pointed, little black beard, and the red ribbon of the Legion d'Honneur
in his button-hole.

What there was in the sight of so harmless and inoffensive a personage to
upset her it may be difficult to say; but the fact is that, when Mrs.
Romer perceived this polite little Frenchman talking to her hostess, she
turned suddenly so sick and white, that a lady sitting near her asked her
if she was going to faint.

"I feel it a little hot," she murmured; "I think I will go into the next
room." She rose and attempted to escape--whether from the heat or the
observation of the little Frenchman was best known to herself.

Her maneuver, however, was not destined to succeed. Before she could
work her way half-way through the crush to the door, the man whom she was
bent upon avoiding turned round and saw her. A look of glad recognition
flashed into his face, and he instantly left Lady Kynaston's side, and
came across the room to speak to her.

"This is an unlooked-for pleasure, madame."

"I certainly never expected to meet you here, Monsieur D'Arblet,"
faltered Helen, turning red