nd the hall below were already filled with the early
arrivals. Bidding Juliette to remain in the ballroom, Lady Blakeney now
took up her stand on the exquisitely decorated landing, ready to greet
her guests. She had a smile and a pleasant word for all, as, in a
constant stream, the elite of London fashionable society began to file
past her, exchanging the elaborate greetings which the stilted mode of
the day prescribed to this butterfly-world.

The lacqueys in the hall shouted the names of the guests as they passed
up the stairs: names celebrated in politics, in worlds of sport, of
science or of art, great historic names, humble, newly-made ones, noble
illustrious titles. The spacious rooms were filling fast. His Royal
Highness, so 'twas said, had just stepped out of his barge. The noise of
laughter and chatter was incessant, like unto a crowd of gaily-plumaged
birds. Huge bunches of apricot-coloured roses in silver vases made the
air heavy with their subtle perfume. Fans began to flutter. The string
band struck the preliminary cords of the gavotte.

At that moment the lacqueys at the foot of the stairs called out in
stentorian tones:

"Mademoiselle Desiree Candeille! and Monsieur Chauvelin!"

Marguerite's heart gave a slight flutter; she felt a sudden tightening
of the throat. She did not see Candeille at first, only the slight
figure of Chauvelin dressed all in black, as usual, with head bent
and hands clasped behind his back; he was slowly mounting the wide
staircase, between a double row of brilliantly attired men and women,
who looked with no small measure of curiosity at the ex-ambassador from
revolutionary France.

Demoiselle Candeille was leading the way up the stairs. She paused on
the landing in order to make before her hostess a most perfect and most
elaborate curtsey. She looked smiling and radiant, beautifully dressed,
a small wreath of wrought gold leaves in her hair, her only jewel an
absolutely regal one, a magnificent necklace of diamonds round her
shapely throat.

Chapter XI: The Challenge

It all occurred just before midnight, in one of the smaller rooms, which
lead in enfilade from the principal ballroom.

Dancing had been going on for some time, but the evening was close,
and there seemed to be a growing desire on the part of Lady Blakeney's
guests to wander desultorily through the gardens and glasshouses, or sit
about where some measure of coolness could be obtained.

There was