I wish the Major could set eyes on her."

The girl's tall figure, in its ivory and gold draperies, showed
strikingly against a mass of evergreens, and the simple dignity of the
dress she had herself designed emphasised the queenly element in her
beauty.

"Did you think I had deserted you altogether?" Desmond asked, as they
drew near.

"I knew you would come the first moment you could."

"You have a large faith in your friends, Honor."

"I have a very large faith--in you!" she answered simply.

"That's good hearing. But I hardly deserve it at this minute. I have
come to ask if I may throw you over for Ladybird?" And in a few words
he explained the reason of his strange request.

One glance at Evelyn's face told Honor that the untoward incident had
dispelled the last shadow of restraint between husband and wife; and
the loss of a dance with Theo seemed a small price to pay for so happy
a consummation.

The valse was in full swing now,--a kaleidoscopic confusion of colour,
shifting into fresh harmonies with every bar; four hundred people
circling ceaselessly over a surface as of polished steel.

Desmond guided his wife along the edge of the crowd till they came
again to the pillared entrance. Here, where it was possible to stand
back a little from the dancers, they were confronted by a thickset,
heavy-faced man wearing the singularly inept-looking costume of a
Pierrot. Face and carriage proclaimed that he had enjoyed his dinner
very thoroughly before setting out for the ball; and Evelyn's small
shudder fired the fighting blood in Desmond's veins. It needed an
effort of will not to greet his unsuspecting opponent with a blow
between the eyes. But instead, he stood his ground and awaited
developments.

The man bestowed upon Evelyn a bow of exaggerated politeness, which
italicised his scant courtesy towards her partner.

"There's some mistake here," he said bluntly. "This is _my_ dance with
Mrs Desmond, and I've missed too much of it already."

"Mrs Desmond happens to be my wife," Theo made answer with ominous
quietness. "I don't choose that she should be insulted by her
partners; and I am dancing this with her myself."

The incisive tone, low as it was, penetrated the man's muddled brain.
His blustering assurance collapsed visibly, increasing fourfold his
ludicrous aspect. He staggered backward, muttering incoherent words
that might charitably be construed as apology, and passed on into the
library, making