fle better made,
and pleasanter to look at than most of them, and that the air of
boredom, so apparent on most of their faces and in their manners, was
in his case perfectly natural. As a matter of fact, he hated afternoon
receptions, and was only waiting for a favourable opportunity to make
his exit unnoticed.

"Paul, my boy, you don't look happy," exclaimed a voice in his ear.

Paul de Vaux turned upon the new-comer sharply. "Not likely to,
Arthur. You know I hate all this sort of thing, and, as far as I can
see, it's just a repetition of the usual performance--stale speeches,
lionizing, gossip, and weak tea. I consider you've brought me here
under false pretences. Where's the startling novelty you promised me?"

"All in good time," was the cool reply. "You'll thank your stars
you're here in a minute or two."

Paul de Vaux looked at his brother incredulously. "Some sell of yours,
I suppose," he remarked. "At any rate, no one here whom I have spoken
to seems to be expecting anything unusual."

Arthur--no one ever called him anything else--laughed, and beat an
impatient tattoo upon the floor with his foot. He was several inches
shorter than his brother, and altogether unlike him. Yet he, too, was
good-looking, in a certain way.

"That's just the beauty of it," he said. "Lady Swindon has prepared
a little surprise for her guests. She's just that sort of woman, you
know. Denison told me about it at the club, a few minutes before you
came in for lunch. I shouldn't have bothered you to come if I hadn't
known there was something good on."

"I dislike surprises," his brother answered wearily. "Half the
pleasure of a thing lies in anticipation, and surprises rob one of
that. Let us go, Arthur; there are plenty here to enjoy this novelty,
whatever it is. Come and have a weed at my rooms, and we'll talk over
something for to-night."

Arthur shook his head and laid his hand upon Paul's coat-sleeve.
"You don't know what's coming off, old fellow; I wouldn't miss it for
anything. Great Scott! there's the bishop. Wonder how he'll like it?
and there's Lady May over there, Paul. You're booked, old man, if she
looks this way."

Paul leant forward with a faint show of interest, and looked in
the direction indicated. "I thought that the Westovers went North
yesterday," he remarked. "Lady May said that they expected it."

"Likely enough. 'Gad! the performance is going to commence," Arthur
exclaimed, quickly. "Paul, you are goi