ame to lend himself to the vagaries of such a
set I cannot imagine."

Mr. Sabin smiled.

"C'est la femme toujours!" he remarked. "His Grace is, I fear,
henpecked, and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people. And
now, my dear niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you
could get me a card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night."

Helene laughed softly.

"Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon's cousin, you
know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards
here. Shall I really see you there?"

"I believe so," Mr. Sabin answered.

"And Lucille?"

"It is possible."

"There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention,
or anything of that sort?"

Mr. Sabin shook his head.

"Lucille and I are the best of friends," he answered. "Talk to her, if
you will. By the bye, is that twelve o'clock? I must hurry. Doubtless we
shall meet again at the ball."

But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.

CHAPTER XX

Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress from
the supper-room with a little group of friends.

They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from him.
Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom ablaze with
jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.

"I must go in and see the De Lausanacs," she exclaimed. "They are in
the blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador. I shall be
at Carmarthen House within half an hour--unless my headache becomes
unbearable. Au revoir, all of you. Good-bye, Laura!"

Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors. Lady Carey
retraced her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some languid
inquiries of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief. Then she came
again slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin. He rose to his
feet.

"I thank you very much for your note," he said. "You have something, I
believe, to say to me."

She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling
that he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette. The jewels
which encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft material
of her gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed to foam about
her feet, a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking. She saw that
he was studying her, and she laughed a little uneasily, looking all the
time into his eyes.

"Shockingly overdressed, ain