it was wiser not to run any risks.

Lady Bracondale was sufficiently soothed by her happy dream of the cause
of Hector's visit to Beechleigh to be coldly polite to Theodora, whom
Anne had presented to her before luncheon. She sat at the turn of the
long, oval table just one off, and was consequently able to observe her
very carefully.

"She is extremely pretty and looks well bred--quite too extraordinary,"
she said to herself, in a running commentary. "Grandfather a convict, no
doubt. She reminds me of poor Minnie Borringdon, who ran off with that
charming scapegrace brother of Patrick Fitzgerald. I wonder what became
of them?"

Lady Bracondale deplored the ways of many of the set she was obliged to
move in--Delicia Harrowfield, for instance. But what was one to do? One
must know one's old friends, especially those to whom one had been a
bridesmaid!

The Crow, who had begun by being determined to find Theodora as cunning
as other angels he was acquainted with, before the second course had
fallen completely under her spell.

No one to look into her tender eyes could form an adverse opinion about
her; and her gentle voice, which only said kind things, was pleasing to
the ear.

"'Pon my soul, Hector is not such a fool as I thought," Colonel Lowerby
said to himself. "This seems a bit of pure gold--poor little white lady!
What will be the end of her?"

And opposite, Hector, with great caution, devoured her with his eyes.

Theodora herself was quite happy, though her delicate intuition told her
Lady Harrowfield was antagonistic to her, and Hector's mother
exceedingly stiff, while most of the other women eyed her clothes and
talked over her head. But they all seemed of very little consequence to
her, somehow.

She was like the sun, who continues to shine and give warmth and light
no matter how much ugly imps may look up and make faces at him.

Theodora was never ill at ease. It would grieve her sensitive heart to
the core if those she loved made the faintest shade of difference in
their treatment of her--but strangers! They counted not at all, she had
too little vanity.

Both her neighbors, the young politician and the Crow, were completely
fascinated by her. She had not the slightest accent in speaking
English, but now and then her phrasing had a quaint turn which was
original and attractive.

Anne was not enjoying her luncheon-party. The impression of sorrow and
calamity which the conversation with her brothe