s," said Oscard, "I see her, talking to an old gentleman who looks
like Voltaire. I shall give her a chance of recognising me before the
evening is out. I don't mind being snubbed if--"

He paused and steered neatly through a narrow place.

"If what?" she asked, when they were in swing again.

"If it means seeing you again," he answered bluntly--more bluntly than
she was accustomed to. But she liked it. It was a novelty after the
smaller change of ballroom compliments.

She was watching the door all the while.

Presently the music ceased and they made their way back to the
spot whence he had taken her. She led the way thither by an almost
imperceptible pressure of her fingers on his arm. There were several
men waiting there, and one or two more entering the room and looking
languidly round.

"There comes the favoured one," Lady Cantourne muttered, with a veiled
glance towards her companion.

Sir John's grey eyes followed the direction of her glance.

"My bright boy?" he inquired, with a wealth of sarcasm on the adjective.

"Your bright boy," she replied.

"I hope not," he said curtly.

They were watching a tall fair man in the doorway who seemed to know
everybody, so slow was his progress into the room. The most remarkable
thing about this man was a certain grace of movement. He seemed to be
specially constructed to live in narrow, hampered places. He was
above six feet; but, being of slight build, he moved with a certain
languidness which saved him from that unwieldiness usually associated
with large men in a drawing-room.

Such was Jack Meredith, one of the best known figures in London society.
He had hitherto succeeded in moving through the mazes of that coterie,
as he now moved through this room, without jarring against any one.

CHAPTER II. OVER THE OLD GROUND

A man who never makes mistakes never makes anything else
either.

Miss Millicent Chyne was vaguely conscious of success--and such a
consciousness is apt to make the best of us a trifle elated. It was
certainly one of the best balls of the season, and Miss Chyne's dress
was, without doubt, one of the most successful articles of its sort
there.

Jack Meredith saw that fact and noted it as soon as he came into the
room. Moreover, it gratified him, and he was pleased to reflect that he
was no mean critic in such matters. There could be no doubt about it,
because he KNEW as well as any woman there. He knew that Millicent Chyne
wa