id.

* * * * *

But Wharton had barely begun his talk with Marcella when a gentleman, on
his way to the buffet with a cup to set down, touched him on the arm.
Wharton turned in some astonishment and annoyance. He saw a youngish,
good-looking man, well known to him as already one of the most important
solicitors in London, largely trusted by many rich or eminent persons.

"May I have a word with you presently?" said Mr. Pearson, in a pleasant
undertone. "I have something of interest to say to you, and it occurred
to me that I might meet you to-night. Excuse my interrupting you."

He glanced with admiration at Marcella, who had turned away.

Wharton had a momentary qualm. Then it struck him that Mr. Pearson's
manner was decidedly friendly.

"In a moment," he said. "We might find a corner, I think, in that
further room."

He made a motion of the head towards a little boudoir which lay beyond
the tea-room.

Mr. Pearson nodded and passed on.

Wharton returned to Marcella, who had fallen back on Frank Leven. At the
approach of the member for West Brookshire, Lady Winterbourne and her
daughter had moved severely away to the further end of the buffet.

"A tiresome man wants me on business for a moment," he said; then he
dropped his voice a little; "but I have been looking forward to this
evening, this chance, for days--shall I find you here again in five
minutes?"

Marcella, who had flushed brightly, said that would depend on the time
and Lady Winterbourne. He hurried away with a little gesture of despair.
Frank followed him with a sarcastic eye.

"Any one would think he was prime minister already! I never met him yet
anywhere that he hadn't some business on hand. Why does he behave as
though he had the world on his shoulders? Your _real_ swells always seem
to have nothing to do."

"Do you know so many busy people?" Marcella asked him sweetly.

"Oh, you shan't put me down, Miss Boyce!" said the boy, sulkily
thrusting his hands into his pockets. "I am going to work like blazes
this winter, if only my dons will let a fellow alone. I say, isn't she
_ripping_ to-night--Betty?"

And, pulling his moustache in helpless jealousy and annoyance, he stared
at the Winterbourne group across the room, which had been now joined by
Aldous Raeburn and Betty, standing side by side.

"What do you want me to say?" said Marcella, with a little cold laugh.
"I shall make you worse if I praise her. Pl