nd standing
upon the wet pavement in the cold, grey light of that November
afternoon, their eyes met in a long, searching gaze. He was able even
to notice trifles. He saw the rich fur which lined her plain, black
cloak, and he could even admire the absolute perfection with which
it followed the lines of her slim, supple, figure. He saw the glowing
eyes shining out from her dusky face, and the coils of brown hair, not
very securely fastened under her turban hat. As she put out her foot
to enter the cab, he could even catch a glimpse of the amber draperies
concealed by her cloak. A dancer! A public dancer! His eyes swept over
her again, taking in every detail of her simple but rich toilette, and
he shivered slightly. Then he answered her, "It is of no consequence,
thank you. I can walk."

"But you will get very wet! Let us make a compromise! You may come
with me. I am going only a very little distance, and then you can take
the cab on to your home, or wherever you want to go to."

She stepped in, taking it for granted that he would accept her offer,
and he followed her at once. He was not in the least surprised. From
the first he had not expected to leave her, and her invitation seemed
perfectly natural to him. She gave the cabman her address through the
trap-door, and they drove off together.

At the corner of the square, two men were standing together talking,
and as the hansom passed within a yard or two of them both glanced
idly in, and then started. Paul, who had been looking straight ahead
of him, and seeing nothing, turned round, startled by a familiar
exclamation, just in time to see his brother Arthur, and Leslie
Horton, gazing after the cab. The incident troubled him, as much for
her sake as his own. But, looking into her face, he could not see that
she was in any way disturbed, although she must have seen the two men,
and would probably have recognised them as having been present at Lady
Swindon's reception. Her face was quite unmoved, but in a moment or
two she asked a question.

"Who was the younger and better looking of those two men; the one with
violets in his coat, like yours?"

"It was my brother," he answered simply. "I am afraid, too, that he
recognised you."

"So far as I am concerned, that is of no consequence at all," she
answered lightly.

He turned away with a sudden sinking of the heart. He knew, too well,
that her carelessness was not assumed. How was he to interpret it?

Their drive