"Wonderful, isn't it?" murmured Dymchurch, with a comical distress in
his eyebrows. "Wonderful!"

Good-naturedly nodding, he moved away, and was lost to sight. Dyce,
holding his place near the entrance, perceived at length another face
that he knew--that of a lady with whom he had recently dined at this
house; in her company came Constance Bride and May Tomalin. He all but
bounded to meet them. Constance looked well in a garb more ornate than
Lashmar had yet seen her wearing; May, glowing with self-satisfaction,
made a brilliant appearance. Their chaperon spoke with him; he learned
that Lady Ogram did not feel quite equal to an occasion such as this,
and had stayed at home. Miss Tomalin, eager to join in the talk,
pressed before Constance.

"Have you got your speech ready, Mr. Lashmar?" she asked, with
sprightly condescension.

"Quite. How sorry I am that you won't be able to enjoy that masterpiece
of eloquence!"

"Oh, but it will be reported. It must be reported, of course."

The chaperon interposed, presenting to Miss Tomalin a gentleman who
seemed very desirous of that honour, and Dyce stifled his annoyance in
saying apart to Constance:

"What barbarism this is! One might as well try to converse in the
middle of the street at Charing Cross."

"Certainly. But people don't come to converse," was the answer.

"You enjoy this kind of thing, I fancy?"

"I don't find it disagreeable."

The chaperon and Miss Tomalin were moving away; May cast a look at
Lashmar, but he was unconscious of it. Constance turned to follow her
companions, and Dyce stood alone again.

Half an hour later, the circling currents to which he surrendered
himself brought him before a row of chairs, where sat the three ladies
and, by the side of Miss Tomalin, Lord Dymchurch. May, flushed and
bright-eyed, was talking at a great rate; she seemed to be laying down
the law in some matter, and Dymchurch, respectfully bent towards her,
listened with a thoughtful smile. Dyce approached, and spoke to
Constance. A few moments afterwards, Lord Dymchurch rose, bowed, and
withdrew; whereupon Lashmar asked Miss Tomalin's permission to take the
vacant chair. It was granted rather absently; for the girl's eyes had
furtively followed her late companion as he moved away, and she seemed
more disposed to reflect than to begin a new conversation. This passed,
however; soon she was talking politics with an air of omniscience which
Lashmar could only envy.