a
refinement of utterance, which at once distinguished it from that of
the men with whom she had been talking. It belonged to a higher social
grade, if it did not express a superiority of nature. For some moments
she listened, catching now and then a word; then other voices
intervened. At length, turning where she stood, she let her eyes range,
expressionless, over the faces near by. That which she sought was not
discoverable, but at the same moment the hostess came up to her.

Mrs. Rolfe, do you know Mr. Cyrus Redgrave?'

'Mr. Redgrave----?'

The confused, hesitating repetition of the name was taken by Mrs
Strangeways for a reply in the negative.

'A charming man, and a great friend of mine--oh, a very old friend. Let
me bring him.'

She rustled away, and Mrs. Rolfe sank back on to the _causeuse_ from
which she had newly risen. Quickly the hostess returned, and, in the
track she made through crowded clusters of people who stood talking,
there followed a gentleman of easy carriage, with handsome features and
thin hair. He was looking for Alma, and as soon as his eyes perceived
her, they fell. Of what Mrs. Strangeways said, Alma heard not a
syllable; she bowed mechanically, clutching her fan as though in peril
of a fall and this the only thing within reach; she knew that Redgrave
bent solemnly, silently; and then, with sudden relief, she saw the
hostess retire.

'I beg your pardon.' The voice was addressing her in a respectful
undertone. 'I had no choice. I did not feel justified in saying I knew
you.'

'You were quite right,' she replied coldly, her fingers now relaxed
upon the fan. 'Mrs. Strangeways is a little impulsive; she gave me no
opportunity of preventing the introduction.'

'Will you let me say, Mrs. Rolfe, that I am glad to have been presented
to you as a stranger? I should be happy indeed if our acquaintance
might begin anew.'

It was polite in terms, but sounded to Alma very like the coolest
impertinence. She bent her head, ever so little. The second seat of the
_causeuse_ being unoccupied, Redgrave hereupon took possession of it.
No sooner had he done so than Alma rose, let a smile of indifference
just fall upon him, and lost herself amid the buzzing assembly.

Ten minutes later, Redgrave and Mrs. Carnaby were lounging in these
same seats, conversing with perfect mutual intelligence. They had not
met for three years, but the interval signified very little in their
lives, and they resumed conv