t it made him realize that he was lonely and
unhappy, uninterestingly young; and that he was a person of no
importance. He had come hurrying back to the hotel, anxious to explain
why he was late; but now he saw--or imagined that he saw--even from
Sanda's back, her complete forgetfulness of him. He might have been far
later, and she would not have known or cared. Perhaps she would be glad
if he had not come at all.

Max had until lately been subconsciously aware (though it was nothing to
be proud of!) that he was rather an important personage in the eyes of
the world. He had been a petted child, and flattered and flirted with as
a cadet and a young officer, one of the richest and best looking at his
post. Suddenly he stood face to face with the fact that he had no longer
a world of his own. He was an outsider, a nobody, not wanted here nor
anywhere. If he could have stolen away without danger of rudeness to
Sanda, he would have gone and left her to Stanton, even though by so
doing he lost his chance of seeing her again. But there was the danger
that, after all, she had not quite forgotten him, and that she might be
taking it for granted that he would keep his appointment. He decided not
to interrupt the eager conversation at this moment, but to hover near,
in case Miss DeLisle looked around as if thinking of him. He hardly
expected her to do so, until the talk flagged, but perhaps some subtle
thought-transference was like a reminding touch on her shoulder. She
turned her head and saw Max Doran. For an instant she gazed at him half
dazedly, as if wondering why he should be there. Her face was so
transfigured that she was no longer the same girl; therefore it did not
seem strange that she should have forgotten so small a thing as an
invitation to tea given to a chance acquaintance. Instead of being pale
and delicately pretty, she was a glowing, radiant beauty. Her dilated
eyes were almost black, her cheeks carnation, her smiling lips not coral
pink, but coral red. She made charming little gestures which turned her
instantly into a French girl. "Oh, Mr. Doran!" she exclaimed. "Here is
Mr. Stanton. Only think, he's staying in this hotel, and we found each
other by accident! I came out here and he walked past. He didn't know
me--it's such ages since I saw him--till I spoke."

Max had felt obliged to draw near, at her call, and to stand listening
to her explanation; but it was clear that to Stanton he was irrelevant.
The expl