the way up the
glass, please, and then give me a cigarette."

Nigel obeyed orders, helped himself, and glanced at the clock as Brookes
left the room.

"How nice of you to come half an hour early, Maggie!" he remarked.

She made a little grimace.

"The first time you have noticed it," she said dolefully. "Do you
realise, Nigel, that it is nearly a week since you proposed to me? Apart
from your penchant for Naida, don't you really want to marry me any
more?"

He came across the room and stood looking down at her thoughtfully. She
was wearing a somewhat daringly fashioned black lace gown, which showed
a good deal of her white shoulders and neck. Her brown hair was simply
but artistically arranged. She was piquante, alluring, with a
provocative smile at the corners of her lips and a challenging gleam in
her eyes. The daintiness and femininity of her were enthralling.

"You would make an adorable wife," he reflected.

"For some one else?"

"An unspeakable proposition," he assured her.

"You're very nice-looking, Nigel," she murmured.

"You're terribly attractive, Maggie!"

"Then why is it," she sighed, "that we neither of us want to marry the
other?"

"If a serious proposition would really be of interest to you," he
began,--

She made a little grimace.

"You heard them coming," she interrupted.

The three expected guests arrived almost together, bringing with them,
at any rate so far as Chalmers and Naida were concerned, an atmosphere
of light-heartedness which was later on to make the little dinner party
a complete success. Naida, too, was in black, a gown simpler than
Maggie's but full of distinction. She wore no jewellery except a
wonderful string of pearls. Her black hair was brushed straight back
from her forehead but drooped a little over her ears. She seemed to
bring with her a larger share of girlishness than any of them had
previously observed in her, as though she had made up her mind for this
one evening to cast herself adrift from the graver cares of life and to
indulge in the frivolities which after all were the heritage of her
youth. She sat at Nigel's right hand and plied him with questions as to
the lighter side of his life,--his favourite sport, books, and general
occupation. She gave evidences of humour which delighted everybody, and
Nigel, though he would at times have welcomed, and did his best to
initiate, an incursion into more serious subjects, found himself
compelled to admire th