am quite sure it was Cork I left him in."

"Quite sure?" exclaimed the Duchess, her astonishment increasing with
each confused reply.

"Well, you see, Duchess," said Nell, "we had an adventure. It was dark;
and we were more solicitous to know whither the way than whence."

The Duchess broke into a merry laugh. The youth had captured her, with
his wistful, Irish eyes, his brogue and his roguish ways.

"We give a ball to-night," she said, gaily. "You shall stay and see the
King."

"The King!" cried Nell, feigning fright. "I should tremble so to see the
King."

"You need not fear," laughed the hostess. "He will not know you."

"I trust not, truly," sighed Nell, with much meaning, as she scanned her
scanty masculine attire.

"Take my mask," said the Duchess, graciously. "As hostess, I cannot wear
it."

Nell seized it eagerly. She would be safe with this little band of black
across her eyes. Even the King would not know her.

"I shall feel more comfortable behind this," she said, naively.

"Did you ever mask?" inquired Portsmouth, gaily.

[Illustration: AS A CAVALIER MISTRESS NELL DECEIVES EVEN THE KING.]
"Nay, I am too honest to deceive," answered Nell; and her eyes grew so
round and so big, who would not believe her?

"But you are at court now," laughed the Duchess, patronizingly. "Masking
is the first sin at court."

"Then I'll begin with the first sin," said Nell, slyly, raising the
Duchess's fingers to her lips, "and run the gamut."

They passed together into the great ball-room, Nell exercising all her
arts of fascination--and they were many. The music ceased as they
entered. The dancers, and more especially the ladies, eyed curiously the
jaunty figure of the new-comer. There were merry whisperings among them.

"Who can he be?" asked one, eagerly. "What a pretty fellow!" exclaimed a
second, in admiration. "I've been eying him," said a third,
complacently.

The men too caught the infection.

"Who can he be?" inquired Rochester.

"Marry, I'll find out," said Lady Hamilton, with an air of confidence,
having recovered by this time from the kisses which had been thrust upon
her and being now ready for a new flirtation.

She approached Adair, artfully, and inquired: "Who art thou, my
butterfly? Tell me now, e'er I die." Her attitude was a credit to the
extremes of euphuism.

There was general laughter at her presumptuous and effete pose and
phrase.

The ladies had gathered about the new hero, lik