an, became pale with a
strange and painful sensation as he looked at Valentia.

She was flirting with Vaughan, or so every one present must be thinking.
Of course it was only from pique, and he would soon put a stop to it.

And Vaughan, with his ironical glance and quiet manner, why did he look
into her eyes all the time?

What was he saying?

Harry asked them all to come back to the studio for some music, but even
as he made the arrangement to drive Valentia, he remembered that, _a la
fin des fins_, he would have to leave her at her husband's house. Would
Romer be sitting up? What an ass he was! What rot the whole dinner was!
It was all through Van Buren. Van Buren was a fool. Confound Romer!

Harry was jealous.

CHAPTER VII

DAPHNE

"More flowers from Van Buren? Let me look at them. A spray of lilies of
the valley; how touching! He expects you to wear them at the opera. I
think it's _such_ a mistake to wear real flowers on an evening dress.
They have a damp, chilly look, like fresh vegetables, at first, and when
they begin to fade they make you look faded, too. Never mind, Daphne; I
think perhaps you'd better wear them just to-night," said Valentia.

"Yesterday," said Daphne, "he sent me that basket of American Beauty
roses. The day before he sent me Ella Wheeler Wilcox's poems."

Valentia smiled. "Poor darling!--I mean Van Buren's a poor darling, not
you. You see, he's got the nice sort of Boston idea that a man ought
only to send a girl flowers or books, or music. He thinks it's
respectful. But, anyway, it's a very good sign."

"A good sign? But I thought there was so much of that sort of thing--I
mean fuss and attention, to girls in America. I thought that didn't mean
anything. I mean anything particular."

"Daphne, dear, don't blind yourself; don't shut your eyes to obvious
facts. It isn't a matter of what you think or what I think, or of
speculation at all. I _happen to know_ that Van Buren _is_ going to
propose to you. He'll probably do it at Henley or at Sandown, or in the
Park. He's certain to want it to be on a typically English background;
but you can take it from me, for a dead cert, that it's bound to come."

Daphne sat down and looked serious.

"Valentia, it's no good. Don't let him do it. It will be so frightfully
uncomfortable meeting him afterwards."

"Frightfully uncomfortable meeting the man to whom you're engaged? Why?"

"Because I shan't be engaged to him."

"Why not?"