o
my correspondent tells me--to have become completely fascinated with
a--a--dancer--Adrea Kiros I think she calls herself."

"I have heard of her," Lady May murmured. "She dances only at private
houses, I think. Everyone says she is wonderful."

"She is--wonderful," Paul said slowly. He was about to say more, but
he checked himself. Lady May was watching him, and he knew that he
could not speak of Adrea Kiros unmoved. So he went on:--

"I am not complaining, for after all it is perfectly natural, but
Arthur is certainly his mother's favorite son. You know how strict she
is in some of her notions; so you can understand what a shock it would
be to her if any rumors were to reach her ears. It would be a terrible
blow to her. But, apart from that, the thing is serious in itself.
Arthur was always delicate, and Cis--my friend--speaks of him as
looking ghastly ill. The girl is probably only amusing herself,
although she seems to have given him plenty of encouragement. But I
know Ad--Adrea Kiros. She is no ordinary girl of her class. In the
whole world I doubt if there breathes a more dangerous woman," he
wound up, in a low tone.

Lady May was quite sympathetic now, but a little mystified. "I am so
sorry," she said softly. "Ought you not to go to London, and try what
your influence can do with him? That is disinterested advice, at any
rate," she added, with a little laugh, "for I don't want you to go.
But Arthur always seemed to look up to you so! You might be able to
get him away. Don't you think it would be a good thing if you could
get him down here? We would make it as lively as possible for him up
at the Castle; and, I don't know how your preserves are, but ours
have been scarcely touched yet. Between the two of us, at any rate, he
could have as much shooting as he liked. And I would ask the Fergusson
girls to come and stay," she went on, getting more and more in love
with her plan. "He was so much taken with Amy, you know, when they
were down here before. We could get up some theatricals, or something,
and have quite a good time. What do you think of my plan?"

He was thankful for her long speech, for it had enabled him to get
over the slight agitation which the thought of that unavoidable
journey to London had called up in him. From the first he had felt
that it was his duty to go. He had received this disquieting letter
two days ago, and since then he had telegraphed twice and written to
Arthur without getting a