on, my brother, you know," and
she pointed to a small red-haired man who was elbowing his way towards
them. "I wonder what he wants; it is not at all in his line to come to
balls. You know him, don't you? he is always racing horses, like you."

But the Guardsman had vanished. For reasons of his own he did not wish
to meet Garsington. Perhaps he too had been a member of a certain club.

"Oh, there you are, Honoria," said her brother, "I thought that I should
be sure to find you somewhere in this beastly squash. Look here, I have
something to tell you."

"Good news or bad?" said Lady Honoria, playing with her fan. "If it is
bad, keep it, for I am enjoying myself very much, and I don't want my
evening spoilt."

"Trust you for that, Honoria; but look here, it's jolly good, about as
good as can be for that prig of a husband of yours. What do you think?
that brat of a boy, the son of old Sir Robert Bingham and the cook or
some one, you know, is----"

"Not dead, not dead?" said Honoria in deep agitation.

"Dead as ditch-water," replied his lordship. "I heard it at the club.
There was a lawyer fellow there dining with somebody there, and they
got talking about Bingham, when the lawyer said, 'Oh, he's Sir Geoffrey
Bingham now. Old Sir Robert's heir is dead. I saw the telegram myself.'"

"Oh, this is almost too good to be true," said Honoria. "Why, it means
eight thousand a year to us."

"I told you it was pretty good," said her brother. "You ought to stand
me a commission out of the swag. At any rate, let's go and drink to the
news. Come on, it is time for supper and I am awfully done. I must screw
myself up."

Lady Honoria took his arm. As they walked down the wide flower-hung
stair they met a very great Person indeed, coming up.

"Ah, Lady Honoria," said the great Person, "I have something to say that
will please you, I think," and he bent towards her, and spoke very low,
then, with a little bow, passed on.

"What is the old boy talking about?" asked her brother.

"Why, what do you think? We are in luck's way to-night. He says that
they are offering Geoffrey the Under Secretaryship of the Home Office."

"He'll be a bigger prig than ever now," growled Lord Garsington. "Yes,
it is luck though; let us hope it won't turn."

They sat down to supper, and Lord Garsington, who had already been
dining, helped himself pretty freely to champagne. Before them was a
silver candelabra and on each of the candles was fixed a l