till.

"Don't look for a moment," he said, "but tell me as soon as you can--who
is that tall young man, like a Goliath, talking to the little dark
woman? You see whom I mean?"

Lady Mary nodded, and they passed on. In a moment or two she answered
him.

"How strange that you should ask!" she whispered in his ear. "That is
Mr. Jermyn."

They were on the outskirts now of the ballroom itself. One of Lady
Mary's partners came up with an open programme and a face full of
reproach.

"Do please forgive me, Captain Henderson," Lady Mary begged. "I have
hurt my foot, and I am not dancing any more."

"But surely I was to take you in to supper?" the young officer
protested, good-humouredly. "Don't tell me that you are going to cut
that?"

"I am going to cut everything to-night with everybody," Lady Mary said.
"Please forgive me. Come to tea to-morrow and I'll explain."

The young man bowed, and, with a curious glance at Ruff, accepted his
dismissal. Another partner was simply waved away.

"Please turn round and come back," Peter Ruff said. "I want to see those
two again."

"But we haven't found Count von Hern yet," she protested. "Surely that
is more important, is it not? I believe that I saw him dancing just
now--there, with the tall girl in yellow."

"Never mind about him, for the moment," Ruff answered. "Walk down this
corridor with me. Do you mind talking all the time, please? It will
sound more natural, and I want to listen."

The young American and his partner had found a more retired seat now,
about three quarters of the way down the pillared vestibule which
bordered the ballroom. He was bending over his companion with an air of
unmistakable devotion, but it was she who talked. She seemed, indeed,
to have a good deal to say to him. The slim white fingers of one hand
played all the time with a string of magnificent pearls. Her dark, soft
eyes--black as aloes and absolutely un-English--flashed into his. A
delightful smile hovered at the corners of her lips. All the time she
was talking and he was listening. Lady Mary and her partner passed by
unnoticed. At the end of the vestibule they turned and retraced their
steps. Peter Ruff was very quiet--he had caught a few of those rapid
words. But the woman's foreign accent had troubled him.

"If only she would speak in her own language!" he muttered.

Lady Mary's hand suddenly tightened upon his arm.

"Look!" she exclaimed. "That is Count von Hern!"

A tall, fai