ford should chance
inconveniently upon some acquaintance of Ivor Dundas, in the restaurant.
I did not hurry over the meal, for all I wanted now was to arrive at
Maxine de Renzie's house at twelve o'clock, and tell her my news--or
lack of news. She would be there waiting for me, I was sure, no matter
how prompt I might be, for though in ordinary circumstances, after the
first performance of a new play, either Maxine would have gone out to
supper, or invited guests to sup with her, she would have accepted no
invitation, given none, for to-night. She would hurry out of the
theatre, probably without waiting to remove her stage make-up, and she
would go home unaccompanied, except by her maid.

Maxine lives in a charming little old-fashioned house, set back in its
own garden, a great "find" in a good quarter of Paris; and her house
could he reached in ten minutes' drive from my hotel. I would not go as
far as the gate, but would dismiss my cab at the corner of the quiet
street, as it would not he wise to advertise the fact that Mademoiselle
de Renzie was receiving a visit from a young man at midnight. Fifteen
minutes would give me plenty of time for all this: therefore, at about a
quarter to twelve I started to go downstairs, and in the entrance hall
almost ran against the last person on earth I expected to see--Diana
Forrest.

She was not alone, of course; but for a second or two I saw no one else.
There was none other except her precious and beautiful face in the
world; and for a wild instant I asked myself if she had come here to see
me, to take back all her cruel words of misunderstanding, and to take me
hack also. But it was only for an instant--a very mad instant.

Then I realised that she couldn't have known I was to be at the Elysee
Palace Hotel, and that even if she had, she would not have dreamed of
coming to me. As common sense swept my brain clear, I saw near the
precious and beautiful face other faces: Lady Mountstuart's, Lord
Mountstuart's, Lisa Drummond's, and Bob West's.

They were all in evening dress, the ladies in charming wraps which
appeared to consist mostly of lace and chiffon, and evidently they had
just come into the hotel from some place of amusement. The beautiful
face, which had been pale, grew rosy at sight of me, though whether with
amazement or anger, or both, I couldn't tell. Lisa smiled, looking more
impish even than usual; but it was plain that the others, Lord
Mountstuart among them, wer