ntrol.

"It was rather a rash promise, I am afraid."

Her voice sounded half shy and wholly sweet, and again he was caught by
that elusive quality about her that had puzzled him before. It was
stronger than ever, so strong that he felt for a moment on the verge of
discovery. But yet again it baffled him, making him all the more
determined to pursue it to its source.

"You're not going to cry off?" he said, with a smile.

He saw her flush behind her mask.

"Only with your permission," she answered.

He heard the note of pleading in her voice, but he would not notice it.

"Oh, I can't let you off!" he said lightly. "Gwen would never forgive
me. Besides, I don't want to."

She said no more, probably realising that he meant to have his way. They
talked upon indifferent topics in the midst of the general buzz of
merriment till, supper over, they separated.

"I shall come for that midnight dance," were Carey's last words, as he
bowed and left her.

And during the hour that intervened he kept a sharp eye upon her, lest
her evident reluctance to remain should prove too much for her
integrity. He was half amused at his own tenacity in the matter. Not for
years had a chance acquaintance so excited his curiosity.

A few minutes before midnight he was standing before her. The last dance
of the evening had just begun. Gwen had decreed that everyone should
stop upon the stroke of twelve, while every mask was removed, after
which the dance was to be continued to the finish.

"Shall we go upstairs?" suggested Carey.

To his surprise he felt that the hand she laid upon his arm was
trembling.

"By all means," she answered. "Let us get away from the crowd!"

It was an unexpected request, but he showed no surprise. He piloted her
to a secluded spot in the upper regions, and they sat down on a lounge
at the end of a corridor.

A queer sense of uneasiness had begun to oppress Carey, as strong as it
was inexplicable. He made a resolute effort to ignore it. The music
downstairs was sinking away. He took out his watch.

"The dramatic moment approaches," he remarked, after a pause. "Are you
ready?"

She did not speak.

"I'll tell you why I want to see you unmask," he said, speaking very
quietly. "It is because there is something about you that reminds me of
someone I know, but the resemblance is so subtle that it has eluded me
all the evening."

"You do not know me," she said. And he felt that she spoke with an
effort.