the cold.

"I never felt this house cold before. Has anything happened to your
_calorifere_? These rooms are too big! By-the-way, Oliver"--Mr. Ferrier
turned his back to the blaze, and looked round him--"when are you going
to reform this one?"

Oliver surveyed it.

"Of course I should like nothing better than to make a bonfire of it
all! But mother--"

"Of course--of course! Ah, well, perhaps when you marry, my dear boy!
Another reason for making haste!"

The older man turned a laughing eye on his companion. Marsham merely
smiled, a little vaguely, without reply. Ferrier observed him, then
began abstractedly to study the carpet. After a moment he looked up--

"I like your little friend, Oliver--I like her particularly!"

"Miss Mallory? Yes, I saw you had been making acquaintance. Well?"

His voice affected a light indifference, but hardly succeeded.

"A very attractive personality!--fresh and womanly--no nonsense--heart
enough for a dozen. But all the same the intellect is hungry, and wants
feeding. No one will ever succeed with her, Oliver, who forgets she has
a brain. Ah! here she is!"

For the door had been thrown open, and Diana entered, followed by Mrs.
Colwood. She came in slowly, her brow slightly knit, and her black eyes
touched with the intent seeking look which was natural to them. Her
dress of the freshest simplest white fell about her in plain folds. It
made the same young impression as the childish curls on the brow and
temples, and both men watched her with delight, Marsham went to
meet her.

"Will you sit on my left? I must take in Lady Niton."

Diana smiled and nodded.

"And who is to be my fate?"

"Mr. Edgar Frobisher. You will quarrel with him--and like him!"

"One of the 'Socialists'?"

"Ah--you must find out!"

He threw her a laughing backward glance as he went off to give
directions to some of his other guests. The room filled up. Diana was
aware of a tall young man, fair-haired, and evidently Scotch, whom she
had not seen before, and then of a girl, whose appearance and dress
riveted her attention. She was thin and small--handsome, but for a
certain strained emaciated air, a lack of complexion and of bloom. But
her blue eyes, black-lashed and black-browed, were superb; they made
indeed the note, the distinction of the whole figure. The thick hair,
cut short in the neck, was brushed back and held by a blue ribbon, the
only trace of ornament in a singular costume, which consist