ltaneously. It was almost time for the
arrival of Riatt, and neither had any fancy for meeting him save at her
best--in all the panoply of evening dress.

"We're not dining till a quarter past eight, my dears," said Mrs. Ussher.

Both ladies thought they would lie down before dinner. And here chance
took a hand. Riatt's train was late, whereas Christine's clock was fast.
And so it happened that she came downstairs just as he was coming up.

There had been no one to greet him. He was told by the butler that Mrs.
Ussher was dressing, that dinner would be in fifteen minutes; he started
to bound up the stairs, following the footman with his bags, when
suddenly looking up the broad flight he saw a blond vision in white and
pearls coming slowly down. He hoped that his lower jaw hadn't fallen, but
she really was extraordinarily beautiful; and he could not help slowing
down a little. She stopped, with her hand on the banisters, like Louise
of Prussia.

"Oh, you're Mr. Riatt," she said, very gently. "You know you're most
awfully late."

"I wish," he said, "that I were wise enough to be able to say: 'Oh,
you're Miss ----'"

"I might be a Mrs."

"Oh, I hope not," he answered. "Are you?"

She smiled.

"You'll know as soon as you come down to dinner."

"I shall be quick about dressing."

He went on up, and she pursued her slow progress down. She felt that her
future had been settled by those few seconds on the stairs.

"He will do admirably," she said to herself, and a smile like that of a
sleeping infant curved her lips. She felt calmly triumphant. She had
always said there was no reason why even a rich man should be absolutely
impossible. She recalled certain great fortunes with repulsive owners,
which some of her friends had accepted. For herself she had always
intended to have everything--love and money, too. And here it was, almost
in her hands. There had been moments when she had been so discouraged
that she had actually made up her mind to marry Ned Hickson. How wise she
had been to hold off!

She leant her arm on the mantel-piece and studied herself in the mirror.
It was a Chinese painted mirror, and the tint of the glass was green and
unbecoming, yet even this could not mar the dazzling reflection. The only
object on which she looked with dissatisfaction was her string of pearls;
they were imitation. She thought she would have emeralds; and she heard
clearly in her own inner ear this sentence: "Yes, that is