aking any further
acquaintances."

"But you came as the guest of Mademoiselle Celaire," she reminded him
doubtfully, with a faint regretful sigh and a provocative gleam in her
eyes.

"I saw Mademoiselle Celaire to-night for the first time for years,"
Peter replied. "I called to see her in her dressing-room, and she
claimed me for an escort this evening. I am, alas! a very occasional
wanderer in the pleasant paths of Bohemia."

"If that is really true," she murmured, "I suppose I must tell you
something about the people, or you will feel that you have wasted your
opportunity."

"Mademoiselle," Peter whispered.

She held out her hand and laughed into his face.

"No!" she interrupted. "I shall do my duty. Opposite you is Mademoiselle
Drezani, the famous singer at Covent Garden. Do I need to tell you that,
I wonder? Rudolf Maesterling, the dramatist, stands behind her there in
the corner. He is talking to the wonderful Cleo, whom all the world
knows. Monsieur Guyer there, he is manager, I believe, of the Alhambra;
and talking to him is Marborg, the great pianist. The two ladies talking
to my brother are Esther Hammerton, whom, of course, you know by sight.
She is leading lady, is she not, at the Hilarity Theatre? The other one
is Miss Ransome. They tell me that she is your only really great English
actress."

Peter nodded appreciatively.

"It is all most interesting," he declared. "Now, tell me, please, who is
the military person with the stiff figure and sallow complexion standing
by the door? He seems quite alone."

The girl made a little grimace.

"I suppose I ought to be looking after him," she admitted, rising
reluctantly to her feet. "He is a soldier just back from India--a
General Noseworthy, with all sorts of letters after his name. If
Mademoiselle Celaire is generous, perhaps we may have a few minutes'
conversation later on," she added, with a parting smile.

"Say, rather, if Mademoiselle Korust is kind," de Grost replied, bowing.
"It depends upon that only."

He strolled across the room and rejoined Mademoiselle Celaire a few
moments later. They stood apart in a corner.

"I should like my supper," Peter declared.

"They wait for one more guest," Mademoiselle Celaire announced.

"One more guest! Do you know who it is?"

"No idea," she answered. "One would imagine that it was someone of
importance. Are you any wiser than when you came dear master?" she added
under her breath.

"Not a whit," h