ried Drake. He had mistaken the meaning
of Glory's kiss, and was utterly intoxicated by it. She could have cried
with shame and rage, seeing he thought such conduct came naturally to her
and perhaps imagined it wasn't the first time she had done as much. But
to carry off the situation she laughed a good deal with him, and when the
wine came they jingled glasses.

"I'm going to see you home to-night," he whispered, smiling slyly and
looking her full in the eyes. She shook her head, but that only provoked
him to fresh effort.

"I must, I will--you _shall_ allow me," and he began to play with her
hand and ruffle up the lace that covered her round arm.

Just then his man Benson, looking hot and excited, came up to him with a
message. Glory overheard something about "the office," "the Secretary,"
and "Scotland Yard." Then Drake turned to her with a smile, over a look
of vexation, and said: "I'm sorry, dear--very--I must go away for a
while. Will you stay here until I return, or----"

"Take me out and put me in a cab," said Glory. Their getting up attracted
attention, and Lord Robert said:

"Is it, perhaps, something about that----"

"It's nothing," said Drake, and they left the room.

The band in the ballroom was still playing the dance out of the
burlesque, and half a hundred voices were shouting "Tra-la-la-la" as
Glory stepped into a hansom.

"I'll follow on, though," whispered Drake with a merry smile.

"We shall all be in bed, and the house locked up---- How magnificent you
were to-night!"

"I couldn't see the man trodden on when he was down---- But how lovely
you've looked to-day, Glory! I'll get in to-night if I have to ring up
Liza or break down the door for it!"

As the cab crossed Trafalgar Square it had to draw up for a procession of
people coming up Parliament Street singing hymns. Another and more
disorderly procession of people, decorated with oak leaves and hawthorns
and singing a music-hall song, came up and collided with it. A line of
police broke up both processions; and the hansom passed through.

VIII.

On entering the drawing-room John Storm was seized with a weird feeling
of dread. The soft air seemed to be filled with Glory's presence and her
very breath to live in it. On the side-table a lamp was burning under a
warm red shade. A heap of petty vanities lay about--articles of silver,
little trinkets, fans, feathers, and flowers. His footsteps on the soft
carpet made no noise. It wa