rcelain of tea paraphernalia caught the
glow of the fire; a reading lamp burned on a centre table, shedding
subdued lustre over ceiling, walls, books, and over the floor where lay
a few ancient rugs of Beloochistan, themselves full of mysterious,
sombre fire.

Hands clasped behind his back, he stood in the centre of the room,
considering his environment with the grave, absent air habitual to him
when brooding. And, as he stood there, a sound at the door aroused him,
and he turned to confront a young girl in hat, veil, and furs, who was
leisurely advancing toward him, stripping the gloves from a pair of very
white hands.

"How do you do, Captain Selwyn," she said. "I am Eileen Erroll and I am
commissioned to give you some tea. Nina and Austin are in the nursery
telling bedtime stories and hearing assorted prayers. The children seem
to be quite crazy about you--" She unfastened her veil, threw back stole
and coat, and, rolling up her gloves on her wrists, seated herself by
the table. "--_Quite_ crazy about you," she continued, "and you're to be
included in bedtime prayers, I believe--No sugar? Lemon?--Drina's mad
about you and threatens to give you her new maltese puppy. I
congratulate you on your popularity."

"Did you see me in the nursery on all fours?" inquired Selwyn,
recognising her bronze-red hair.

Unfeigned laughter was his answer. He laughed, too, not very heartily.

"My first glimpse of our legendary nursery warrior was certainly
astonishing," she said, looking around at him with frank malice. Then,
quickly: "But you don't mind, do you? It's all in the family, of
course."

"Of course," he agreed with good grace; "no use to pretend dignity here;
you all see through me in a few moments."

She had given him his tea. Now she sat upright in her chair, smiling,
_distraite_, her hat casting a luminous shadow across her eyes; the
fluffy furs, fallen from throat and shoulder, settled loosely around her
waist.

Glancing up from her short reverie she encountered his curious gaze.

"To-night is to be my first dinner dance, you know," she said. Faint
tints of excitement stained her white skin; the vivid scarlet contrast
of her mouth was almost startling. "On Thursday I was introduced--" she
explained, "and now I'm to have the gayest winter I ever dreamed
of. . . . And I'm going to leave you in a moment if Nina doesn't hurry
and come. Do you mind?"

"Of course I mind," he protested amiably, "but I suppose you wi