t animated
scene. A band was playing, and a gaily-dressed crowd streamed from the
house on to the lawn. Canoes, punts, and a tiny steam-launch were ready
for any guests who wished to enjoy the river; and the croquet, archery,
and tennis grounds were well filled.

Tea and refreshments were served in a huge marquee just below the
house. Malcolm, who met several people whom he knew, soon began to
enjoy himself, and he was deep in conversation with a young artist when
Miss Jacobi and her brother passed them; she bowed to Malcolm with
rather a pleased smile of recognition.

"What, do you know la belle Jacobi?" observed his friend enviously.
"What a lucky fellow you are! Look here, couldn't you do a good turn
for a chap and introduce me?"

"My dear Rodney, I have not spoken a dozen words to Miss Jacobi myself.
Get one of the Etheridge girls to do the job for you. You had better
look sharp," he continued, "for there is quite a small crowd of men
round her now;" and as Mr. Rodney speedily acted on this hint, Malcolm
joined some more of his friends.

Later in the afternoon, as he was listening to the band, he saw Miss
Jacobi opposite to him; she had still a little court round her, and
seemed talking with great animation. She looked far handsomer than on
the previous day, and her dress became her perfectly. She wore a
cream-coloured transparent stuff over yellow silk, her Gainsborough hat
was cream-colour and yellow too, and she carried a loosely-dropping
posy of tea-roses, and two or three rosebuds of the same warm hue were
nestled at her throat. The contrast of her dark eyes and hair and warm
olive complexion was simply superb, and Malcolm secretly clapped his
hands and murmured "bravo" under his breath. "She has the soul of the
coquette and the artist too," he said to himself. "Oh, woman, woman,
surely Solomon had you in his thoughts when he declared 'All is
vanity;'" and then he remembered Elizabeth Templeton and felt ashamed
of his cynicism. The next moment he noticed the coast was clear, and
obeying an involuntary impulse he crossed the lawn.

Miss Jacobi welcomed him with a soft, flickering smile, but did not
speak.

"Your court has deserted you, Miss Jacobi?"

"Not entirely," she returned. "Captain Fawcett has gone to fetch me an
ice--it is so hot in the tent--and Mr. Dysart is looking for my fan;
they will be back presently." She spoke in rather a weary tone.

"Why do you stand here?" he remonstrated. "There is