y," she whispered, "or
do I dreams?"

"Yes, dear, it is I."

"Where has you been, daddy--to see Auntie Beatrice?"

"Yes, love," he said, with a gasp.

"Oh, daddy, my head do feel funny; but I don't mind now you is come
back. You won't go away no more, will you, daddy?"

"No, dear, no more."

After that she began to wander a little, and finally dropped into a
troubled sleep.

Within half an hour both the doctor and the nurse arrived. The former
listened to Geoffrey's tale and examined the child.

"She may pull through it," he said, "she has got a capital constitution;
but I'll tell you what it is--if she had lain another five minutes in
that draught there would have been an end of her. You came in the nick
of time. And now if I were you I should go to bed. You can do no good
here, and you look dreadfully ill yourself."

But Geoffrey shook his head. He said he would go downstairs and smoke a
pipe. He did not want to go to bed at present; he was too tired.

Meanwhile the ball went merrily. Lady Honoria never enjoyed herself
more in her life. She revelled in the luxurious gaiety around her like
a butterfly in the sunshine. How good it all was--the flash of diamonds,
the odour of costly flowers, the homage of well-bred men, the envy of
other women. Oh! it was a delightful world after all--that is when one
did not have to exist in a flat near the Edgware Road. But Heaven be
praised! thanks to Geoffrey's talents, there was an end of flats and
misery. After all, he was not a bad sort of husband, though in many ways
a perfect mystery to her. As for his little weakness for the Welsh girl,
really, provided that there was no scandal, she did not care twopence
about it.

"Yes, I am so glad you admire it. I think it is rather a nice dress,
but then I always say that nobody in London can make a dress like Madame
Jules. Oh, no, Geoffrey did not choose it; he thinks of other things."

"Well, I'm sure you ought to be proud of him, Lady Honoria," said the
handsome Guardsman to whom she was talking; "they say at mess that he is
one of the cleverest men in England. I only wish I had a fiftieth part
of his brains."

"Oh, please do not become clever, Lord Atleigh; please don't, or I
shall really give you up. Cleverness is all very well, but it isn't
everything, you know. Yes, I will dance if you like, but you must go
slowly; to be quite honest, I am afraid of tearing my lace in this
crush. Why, I declare there is Garsingt