tle better
lately," was the only reply he made.

The Major dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Have you not had any return--?" he began.

Romayne stopped him there. "I don't want my infirmities made public," he
whispered back irritably. "Look at the people all round us! When I tell
you I have been better lately, _you_ ought to know what it means."

"Any discoverable reason for the improvement?" persisted the
Major, still bent on getting evidence in support of his own private
conclusions.

"None!" Romayne answered sharply.

But Major Hynd was not to be discouraged by sharp replies. "Miss
Eyrecourt and I have been recalling our first meeting on board the
steamboat," he went on. "Do you remember how indifferent you were to
that beautiful person when I asked you if you knew her? I'm glad to see
that you show better taste to-night. I wish I knew her well enough to
shake hands as you did."

"Hynd! When a young man talks nonsense, his youth is his excuse. At your
time of life, you have passed the excusable age--even in the estimation
of your friends."

With those words Romayne turned away. The incorrigible Major instantly
met the reproof inflicted on him with a smart answer. "Remember," he
said, "that I was the first of your friends to wish you happiness!" He,
too, turned away--in the direction of the champagne and the sandwiches.

Meanwhile, Stella had discovered Penrose, lost in the brilliant
assemblage of guests, standing alone in a corner. It was enough for her
that Romayne's secretary was also Romayne's friend. Passing by titled
and celebrated personages, all anxious to speak to her, she joined the
shy, nervous, sad-looking little man, and did all she could to set him
at his ease.

"I am afraid, Mr. Penrose, this is not a very attractive scene to you."
Having said those kind words, she paused. Penrose was looking at her
confusedly, but with an expression of interest which was new to her
experience of him. "Has Romayne told him?" she wondered inwardly.

"It is a very beautiful scene, Miss Eyrecourt," he said, in his low
quiet tones.

"Did you come here with Mr. Romayne?" she asked.

"Yes. It was by his advice that I accepted the invitation with which
Lady Loring has honored me. I am sadly out of place in such an assembly
as this--but I would make far greater sacrifices to please Mr. Romayne."

She smiled kindly. Attachment so artlessly devoted to the man she loved,
pleased and touched her. In her anxiety to