faint coldness in his
manner would be the thing to draw--and it was; for when he had greeted
Mrs. McBride without gush, and presented his daughter with the air of
just passing on, the widow implored them with great cordiality to leave
their solitary meal and join her party. Nor would she hear of any
refusal.

The whole scene was so novel and delightful to Theodora she cared not at
all whether her father accepted or no, so long as she might sit quietly
and observe the world.

Mrs. McBride had perceived immediately that the string of pearls round
Mrs. Josiah Brown's neck could not have cost less than nine thousand
pounds, and that her frock, although so simple, was the last and most
expensive creation of Callot Soeurs. She had always been horribly
attracted by Captain Fitzgerald, ever since that race week at Trouville
two summers ago, and fate had sent them here to-night, and she meant to
enjoy herself.

Captain Fitzgerald acceded to her request with his usual polished ease,
and the radiant widow presented the rest of her guests to the two
new-comers.

The tall man with the fierce beard was Prince Worrzoff, married to her
niece, Saidie Butcher. Saidie Butcher was short, and had a voice you
could hear across the room. The sleek, fair youth with the twinkling
gray eyes was an Englishman from the Embassy. The disagreeable-looking
woman in the badly made mauve silk was his sister, Lady Hildon. The
stout, hook-nosed bird of prey with the heavy gold chain was a Western
millionaire, and the smiling girl was his daughter. Then, last of all,
came Lord Bracondale--and it was when he was presented that Theodora
first began to take an interest in the party.

Hector, fourteenth Lord Bracondale of Bracondale (as she later that
night read in the _Peerage_) was aged thirty-one years. He had been
educated at Eton and Oxford, served for some time in the Fourth
Lifeguards, been unpaid attache at St. Petersburg, was patron of five
livings, and sat in the House of Lords as Baron Bracondale; creation,
1505; seat, Bracondale Chase. Brothers, none. Sister living, Anne
Charlotte, married to the fourth Earl of Anningford.

Theodora read all this over twice, and also even the predecessors and
collateral branches--but that was while she burned the midnight oil and
listened to the snorts and coughs of Josiah Brown, slumbering next door.

For the time being she raised her eyes and looked into Lord
Bracondale's, and something told her they we