he had restored his charge to her
chaperon, Lashmar took the hint of discretion and retired into the
throng. There amid, he encountered Iris Woolstan, her eyes wide in
search.

"So you _are_ here!" she exclaimed, with immediate change of
countenance. "I despaired of ever seeing you. What a crush!"

"Horrible, isn't it. I've had enough; I must breathe the air."

"Oh, stay a few minutes. I know so few people. Are Lady Ogram and her
niece here?"

"Lady Ogram, I think not. I caught a glimpse of Miss Tomalin somewhere
or other, sternly chaperoned."

He lied gaily, for the talk with May had put him into a thoroughly
blithe humour.

"I should so like to see her," said Iris. "Don't you think you could
point her out, if we went about a little."

"Let us look for her by all means. Have you been to the supper-room?
She may be there."

They turned to move slowly towards the staircase. Before reaching the
door, they were met by Mrs. Toplady, at her side the gentleman who had
been Miss Bride's companion downstairs.

"How fortunate!" exclaimed the hostess to Mrs. Woolstan. "I so want you
to know Miss Tomalin, and Mr. Rossendale can take us to her."

Iris voiced her delight, and looked at Lashmar, inviting him to come
too. But Dyce stood rigid, an unnatural smile on his features; then he
drew back, turned, and was lost to view.

Five minutes later, he quitted the house. It was raining lightly.
Whilst he looked upward to give the cabman his address, drops fell upon
his face, and he found their coolness pleasant.

During the ride home, he indulged a limitless wrath against Iris
Woolstan. That busybody had spoilt his evening, had thrown disturbance
into his mind just when it was enjoying the cheeriest hopes. As likely
as not she would learn that he had had a long talk with May Tomalin,
and, seeing the girl, she would put her own interpretation on the fib
he had told her. What a nuisance it was to have to do with these
feminine creatures, all fuss and impulsiveness and sentimentality! It
would not surprise him in the least if she made a scene about this
evening. Already, the other day, her tone when she accused him of
giving her a false idea of Lady Ogram's niece proved the possibility of
nonsensical trouble. The thing was a gross absurdity. Had he not, from
the very beginning of their friendship, been careful to adopt a tone as
uncompromising as man could use? Had he not applied to her his "method"
in all its rigour? What