ill be doing me a greater service than he
imagines!'

He was afraid that he might have betrayed his real feelings in the
matter; but Caffyn was too much a man of the world to believe him: he
only thought that the other either had independent means of proving
his claim when he chose, or felt convinced that it would be proved for
him without the necessity of committing himself to any alliance or
compromise. He could not help admiring such strategy even while it
disappointed him.

'You're devilish deep, after all,' he said slowly: 'a little overdone
that last bit, perhaps, but no matter--I can read between the lines.
And now, as I am due for this first dance, and they seem to be
striking up down there, I'll ask you to excuse me. One word--if you
want me to play your little game, don't interfere with mine--you know
what I mean!'

Vincent made no answer, and Caffyn went down to the music-room again,
where about a dozen couples were already dancing. It was a small and
quite informal affair, but one or two people had come in from other
houses, and the room was filled, without the hopeless crush which it
would have contained on an ordinary occasion.

He avoided Gilda, whose eyes, however, were following him watchfully,
and made his way to where Mabel was sitting looking on at the dancing;
for she had declined to take a more active part, and was intending to
make her escape as soon as Mark should come to rescue her.

'I'll try one more chance,' he thought, 'and if that fails----'

Vincent had satisfied himself as he passed through the room after
Caffyn had left him that Mark was not there. He went through a network
of rooms, and out on the staircase, looking for him. Mark had had much
to endure in the way of enthusiastic comments on his own work, and the
delight he was supposed to feel at his wife's rendering of his
heroine, while Mrs. Featherstone had driven him almost frantic by her
persistent appeals, confidences, and suggestions with regard to the
performance. He had chosen a moment when her attention was distracted
to slip out unobserved. He knew he must return soon, but his nerves
would bear no more just then, and, wandering aimlessly from room to
room, he came to one in which some light refreshments had been placed
for those engaged in the rehearsal, and he filled a small tumbler of
champagne from a half-empty bottle he found there, and drank it,
hoping it would give him courage to go back and play his part to the