of
simpler cut than was usually seen at Lady Mary's house-parties, and
her complexion showed no signs whatever of town life. Her hair--it was
bright chestnut color, merging in places to golden--was twisted simply
in one large coil on the top of her head. She wore no jewelry, and
she had very much the appearance of a child just escaped from the
schoolroom.

"Mary," she exclaimed, drawing her hostess on one side, "you must send
me in with Mr. Saton! He is perfectly charming, and isn't it a lovely
name? Do tell me who he is, and whether I may fall in love with him."

Lady Mary nodded.

"My dear child," she said, "I shall do nothing of the sort. You are
not nearly old enough to take care of yourself, and we know nothing
about this young man at all. Besides, I want him for myself."

"You are the most selfish hostess I ever stayed with," Lois declared,
turning away with a little pout. "Never mind! I'll make him talk to me
after dinner."

"Is your friend in the diplomatic service?" Lord Penarvon asked
Rochester. "He is a most amusing fellow."

"Not at present, at any rate," Rochester answered. "I really forget
what he used to do when I met him first. As a matter of fact, I have
seen very little of him lately."

A servant announced dinner, and they all trooped across the hall a
little informally. It was only a small party, and Lady Mary was a
hostess whose ideas were distinctly modern. Conversation at first was
nearly altogether general. Saton, without in any way asserting
himself, bore at least his part in it. He spoke modestly enough, and
yet everything he said seemed to tell. From the first, the dinner was
a success.

Rochester found himself listening with a curiosity for which he
could not wholly account, to this young man, seated only a few feet
away. His presence was so decidedly piquant. It appealed immensely
to his sense of humor. Saton's appearance was in every respect
irreproachable. His tie was perfectly tied, his collar of the latest
shape. His general appearance was that of an exceedingly smart young
man about town. The only sign of eccentricity which he displayed was
an unobtrusive eyeglass, suspended from his neck by a narrow black
ribbon, and which he had only used to study the menu.

Rochester looked at him across the white tablecloth, with its
glittering load of silver and glass, its perfumed banks of pink
blossoms, and told himself that one at least of his somewhat eccentric
experiments had born