little round-backed sofa, and smiled a
greeting at Geoffrey. After exchanging a few words with his host he
walked over to her, and she stretched out her pretty gloved hand in
welcome.

"Well met again, Lord Brompton; but you are not wearing your sword."

"'The Knights are dust,' I fear," he quoted with a smile. "I was loath
to wear it with modern evening dress. I crave your forgiveness, fair
lady."

"As long as you do not have it turned into a ploughshare, or a railway
share, which would be more modern," laughed Maggie, "I will forgive
you."

"Have all your guests arrived?"

"Of course; you are the last one, as usual. It has been rather an ordeal
you may believe. Papa was in a dreadful state about it. The Duke and the
Duchess of Bayswater he was especially in awe of. Dear old souls! You
see them over there, looking like Mr. and Mrs. Marius in the ruins of
Carthage."

Geoffrey, turning, saw a fine-looking old couple. The Duke still wore
the blue ribbon of the Garter across his breast. He was a mild-looking
gentleman, who seemed to be plunged in deep melancholy. His head was
bald and highly polished, his gray side-whiskers were brushed carefully
forward, and his nose was aquiline. Her Grace the Duchess surveyed the
company with a haughty stare, which seemed to be a matter of habit
rather than of present feeling.

"They were very kind to me when I was a boy," said Geoffrey, with a
sigh. "But it is so long since they have seen me that they must have
forgotten me. You have a large party."

"Oh, yes; they have been coming in all the afternoon. I think that it
will be very pleasant when we get well shaken together. You see your old
friend, Sir John Dacre, over there, do you not? away over at the end of
the other rooms. The fine-looking girl to whom he is talking is Richard
Lincoln's daughter."

Geoffrey looked in the direction, and saw the back of Sir John Dacre's
head as he bent over to speak to Miss Lincoln.

He made a little start to go over to greet his friend. Miss Windsor saw
it, and said: "You will see Sir John after dinner, Lord Brompton; you
would interrupt a pleasant conversation now by being that wretched third
who makes a 'company' a crowd; and at the same time, you would destroy
all the proportion of the party by leaving me alone. You must sit on the
sofa here by my side, and I will point out all the people to you. You
will not sit anywhere near me, you know, at dinner, as you will take in
Mrs. Oswal