panese lanterns a kind
of verandah. No one was in sight.

"This is the first second to-night I haven't been utterly wretched,"
said Woodville firmly.

"Oh, Frank! How kind of you to talk like that!"

"How beautiful of you to look like that!--And this is the sort of thing
I have to stand--utterly ignored--I suppose you know I worship you? Do
you really belong to me, Sylvia?"

"Oh, Frank! Why, I _love_ you!"

"Do you really?"

"Of course. Look here, don't tell any one--not even yourself--but I'm
wearing the little locket after all."

The kiss was short but disturbing. As they came down to earth with a
shock, they saw, looking at them steadily through the half-open window,
Mr. Ridokanaki. He seemed interested.

At a look from Sylvia Mr. Woodville faded away, feeling as if he were
sneaking off. Sylvia went indoors.

"Good evening, Miss Crofton," said the harsh yet sympathetic pleasant
voice; "I have been seeking you since this half-hour.... I was coming to
ask if I might have the great honour of taking you to supper. Of course,
it is an immense privilege--far more than I might expect. Still, may I
venture to hope?"

"With pleasure," said Sylvia. She took his arm.

"It is very kind of you, Miss Crofton. What a very interesting face that
young man has!"

"Which young man?" Sylvia asked innocently.

"The young man who was in the garden. I am sure he is clever. Your
father's--er--secretary, I think? _What_ did you say his name was,
again?"

"His name is Mr. Woodville. Yes, I think he is clever. Quite an old
friend, you know," Sylvia added rather lamely.

* * * * *

One could see no difference in the Greek, since he talked on in his
usual urbane way, and made no allusion of any sort the whole evening,
either to the floral tribute he had sent, to his letter to Sir James, or
to the little scene he had interrupted.

In the supper-room all was gaiety and laughter.

"How hollow all this sort of thing is, isn't it?" said De Valdez,
presenting Felicity with a plover's egg, as he passed carrying a plate
laden with them to some one else.

"They do seem rather hungry, don't they? But why aren't you eating any
supper, Mr. Wilton?"

Having done her duty to all her old friends, Felicity was occupying
herself very congenially by steadily bowling over a completely new young
man. It was Bertie Wilton, whom Mrs. Ogilvie had brought on the grounds
that he could have danced if it had been