She came round from behind the chair and stood a little nearer to him.

"What things?"

"You know," he said, "I am afraid there is no doubt about it that I am
most horribly in love with another woman. I have come to London because
of her. It seems to me that everything in life depends upon how she
treats me. And yet--"

"And yet what?" she asked, looking up at him a little wistfully.

"I feel that I want to kiss you," he confessed.

"Well, if you don't get it done before the waiter brings in those
cocktails, I shall scream!"

He took her lightly in his arms for a moment and kissed her. Then she
threw herself down in the easy chair and began to laugh softly.

"Oh, why didn't you come before?" she exclaimed. "Fancy Louise never
telling me about you!"

The waiter entered a few minutes later. He drew up a small round table
between them, placed the two wineglasses upon it, and departed
expeditiously. John took one of the glasses over to Sophy. She accepted
it and gave him her fingers to kiss.

"Dear man," she sighed, "I am getting much too fond of you! Go and sit
in your corner, drink your cocktail, and remember Louise. I love your
rooms, and I hope you'll ask me to lunch some time."

"I'll have a luncheon party to-morrow, if you like--that is, if Louise
will come."

She looked up at him quickly.

"Isn't Louise going to Paris?" she asked.

He set down the glass which he had been in the act of raising to his
lips.

"Paris? I didn't hear her say anything about it."

"Perhaps it is my mistake, then," Sophy went on hastily. "I only fancied
that I heard her say so."

There was a moment's silence. John had opened his lips to ask a
question, but quickly closed them again. It was a question, he suddenly
decided, which he had better ask of Louise herself.

"If she does go, I shall be very sorry," he said; "but I do not wish, of
course, to upset her plans. We must talk to her about it to-night. I
suppose we ought to go now."

Sophy walked with him to the door and waited while he took his hat and
gloves from the hat-stand. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.

"If Louise goes to Paris," she whispered disconsolately, "I suppose
there will be no luncheon-party?"

For a single moment he hesitated. She was very alluring, and the
challenge in her eyes was unmistakable.

"I think," he said quietly, "that if Miss Maurel goes to Paris, I shall
return to Cumberland to-morrow."

He opened the door, and Sophy