gave him joy.

The next batch of arrivals contained Lord Wensleydown, who showed no
hesitation as to his desired destination in the saloon. He made a
bee-line for Theodora, and took a low seat at her feet.

Hector, with more caution, was rather to one side. Rage surged up in
him, although his common-sense told him as yet there was nothing he
could openly object to in Wensleydown's behavior.

The little picture of these five people--Barbara engaging Josiah, and
the two men vying with each other to please Theodora--was gall and
wormwood to Mildred. Freddy Wensleydown had always been one of her most
valued friends, and for Hector she had often felt she could experience a
passion.

Lord Wensleydown had an immense _cachet_. He was exceedingly ugly and
exceedingly smart, and was known to have quite specially attractive
methods of his own in the art of pleasing beautiful ladies. He was
always unfaithful, too, and they had to make particular efforts to
retain him for even a week.

Hector knew him intimately, of course; they had been in the same house
at Eton, and were comrades of many years' standing, and until Theodora's
entrance upon the scene, Hector had always thought of him as a coarse,
jolly beast of extremely good company and quaintness. But now! He had no
words adequate in his vocabulary to express his opinion about him!

To Theodora he appeared an ugly little man, who reminded her of the
statue of a satyr she knew in the Louvre. That was all!

At this juncture Lady Harrowfield, accompanied by Morella Winmarleigh,
her lord, and one of her _ames damnees_, a certain Captain Forester,
appeared upon the scene.

Their entrance was the important one of the afternoon, and Lady Ada and
Sir Patrick could not do enough to greet and make them welcome.

The saloon was so large and the screens so well arranged, that for the
first few seconds neither of the ladies perceived the fact of Theodora's
presence. But when it burst upon them, both experienced unpleasant
sensations.

Lady Harrowfield's temper was bad in any case on account of the weather,
and here, on her arrival, that she should find the impertinent upstart
who had made her look foolish at the Anningford luncheon, was an extra
straw.

Morella felt furious. It began to dawn upon her this might be Hector's
reason in coming, not herself at all; and one of those slow, internal
rages which she seldom indulged in began to creep in her veins.

Thus it was that poor T