ho was bowing over her hand, was of medium height or a
trifle less, dark, and dressed with the quiet exactness of an English
gentleman. Only a slight narrowness of the eyes and a greater
alertness of movement seemed to distinguish him in any way, as regards
nationality, from the men by whom he was surrounded. His voice, when
he spoke, contained no trace of accent. It was soft and singularly
pleasant. It had, too, one somewhat rare quality--a delightful ring of
truth. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Prince Maiyo was just
then, amongst certain circles, one of the most popular persons in
Society.

"My dear Duchess," he said, "my indisposition was nothing. And as for
your climate, I am beginning to delight in it,--one never knows what
to expect, or when one may catch a glimpse of the sun. It is only the
grayness which is always the same."

"And even that," the Duchess remarked, smiling, "has been yellow for the
last few days. Prince, you know my daughter Grace, and I am sure that
you have met Miss Penelope Morse? We are waiting for two other men, Sir
Charles Somerfield and Mr. Vanderpole."

The Prince bowed, and began to talk to his hostess' daughter,--a tall,
fair girl, as yet only in her second season.

"Here comes Sir Charles, at any rate!" the Duchess exclaimed. "Really, I
think we shall have to go in. We can leave a message for Dicky; they all
know him at this place. I am afraid he is one of those shocking young
men who entertain the theatrical profession here to supper."

A footman at that moment brought a note to the Duchess, which she tore
open.

"This is from Dicky!" she exclaimed, glancing it through
quickly,--"Savoy notepaper, too, so I suppose he has been here. He says
that he may be a few minutes late and that we are not to wait. He will
pick us up either here or at the theatre. Prince, shall we let these
young people follow us? I haven't heard your excuses yet. Do you know
that you were a quarter of an hour late?"

He bent towards her with troubled face.

"Dear Duchess," he said, "believe me, I am conscious of my fault. An
unexpected matter, which required my personal attention, presented
itself at the last moment. I think I can assure you that nothing of
its sort was ever accomplished so quickly. It would only weary you if I
tried to explain."

"Please don't," the Duchess begged, "so long as you are here at last.
And after all, you see, you are not the worst sinner. Mr. Vanderpole has
not