; the band in the ballroom struck
up again, and the woman on the settee in the alcove sat up and
prepared to rise.

"Suppose we go down now," she said.

Her companion moved away from the little window as one coming out of a
reverie. "Our gallant Major Shirley seems somewhat disgruntled tonight,"
he said. "Do you know him?"

"Yes, I know him." Her words fell with icy precision.

"So do I." The man's tone was one of sheer amusement. "I had the pleasure
of meeting him at the Rifle Club the other day. Someone introduced us. It
was great fun. If there were a little more light, I would show you what
he looked like. For some reason he wasn't pleased. Do you really want to
go downstairs though? It is much nicer here."

She had risen. They were facing one another in the twilight. "Yes," she
said, and though still quiet her voice was not altogether even. "I want
to go, please."

"Mayn't I tell you something first?" he said.

She stood silent, evidently waiting for his communication.

"It's not of paramount importance," he said. "But I think you may as well
know it for your present edification and future guidance. Madam, I am
that wicked, wanton, wily fox, that whipper-snapper, that unmitigated
bounder--Nap Errol!"

He made the announcement with supreme complacence. It was evident that he
felt not the faintest anxiety as to how she would receive it. There was
even a certain careless hauteur about him as though the qualities he
thus frankly enumerated were to him a source of pride.

She heard him with no sign of astonishment. "I knew it," she said
quietly. "I have known you by sight for some time."

"And you were not afraid to speak to such a dangerous scoundrel?" he
said.

"You don't strike me as being very formidable," she answered. "Moreover,
if you remember, it was you who spoke first."

"To be sure," he said. "It was all of a piece with my habitual confounded
audacity. Shall I tell you something more? I wonder whether I dare."

"Wait!" she said imperatively. "It is my turn to tell you something,
though it is more than possible that you know it already. Mr. Errol, I
am--Lady Carfax!"

He bowed low. "I did know," he said, in a tone from which all hint of
banter had departed. "But I thank you none the less for telling me. I
much doubted if you would. And that brings me to my second--or is it my
third?--confession. I did not take you for Mrs. Damer in the card-room a
little while ago. I took you for no one but y