has so much gone off."

"I don't agree with you. Many people think her the star to-night. Mr.
Cliffe, I am told, admires her."

Kitty could not see how the eyes of the speaker, under a Sir Joshua
turban, studied the countenance of Miss Lyster, as she threw out the
words.

Mary laughed.

"Poor Kitty! She tried to flirt with him long ago--just after she
arrived in London, fresh out of the convent. It was so funny! He told me
afterwards he never was so embarrassed in his life--this baby making
eyes at him! And now--oh no!"

"Why not now? Lady Kitty's very much the rage, and Mr. Cliffe likes
notoriety."

"But a notoriety with--well, with some style, some distinction! Kitty's
sort is so cheap and silly."

"Ah, well, she's not to be despised," said Lady Parham. "She's as clever
as she can be. But her husband will have to keep her in order."

"Can he?" said Mary. "Won't she always be in his way?"

"Always, I should think. But he must have known what he was about. Why
didn't his mother interfere? Such a family!--such a history!"

"She did interfere," said Mary. "We all did our best"--she dropped her
voice--"I know I did. But it was no use. If men like spoiled children
they must have them, I suppose. Let's hope he'll learn how to manage
her. Shall we go on? I promised to meet my supper-partner in the
library."

They moved away.

* * * * *

For some minutes Kitty stood looking out, motionless, but the beating of
her heart choked her. Strange ancestral things--things of evil--things
of passion--had suddenly awoke, as it were, from sleep in the depths of
her being, and rushed upon the citadel of her life. A change had passed
over her from head to foot. Her veins ran fire.

At that moment, turning round, she saw Geoffrey Cliffe enter the room in
which she stood. With an impetuous movement she approached him.

"Take me down to supper, Mr. Cliffe. I can't wait for Lord Hubert any
more, I'm <i>so</i> hungry!"

"Enchanted!" said Cliffe, the color leaping into his tanned face as he
looked down upon the goddess. "But I came to find--"

"Miss Lyster? Oh, she is gone in with Mr. Darrell. Come with me. I have
a ticket for the reserved tent. We shall have a delicious corner to
ourselves."

And she took from her glove the little coveted paste-board,
which--handed about in secret to a few intimates of the house--gave
access to the sanctum sanctorum of the evening.

Cliffe wavered. Then hi