young Mrs. Max
Riatt; is she not very beautiful in her emeralds!"

Fortunately she did not say it aloud, for Mrs. Ussher came down at this
moment, and soon Hickson, and then in an incredibly short space of time
Riatt himself.

Undoubtedly he would do magnificently. He stood the test even of evening
clothes, though Christine fancied as she studied him that she would alter
his style of collars. They would be better higher. Mrs. Ussher brought
him over at once and introduced him.

"This is my cousin Max, Christine, about whom I've talked so much. Max,
this is Miss Fenimer."

They smiled at each other with a common impulse not to confess that
earlier meeting on the stairs; and he was just about to settle down
beside her, when the door opened and, last of all, Mrs. Almar came in.
She was wearing her flame-color and lilac dress. Christine knew she would
have it on; knew that she saved it for the greatest moments. She did not
advance very far into the room, but stood looking around her.

"Well," she said, "where is Cousin Max?"

It must not be supposed from this question that she had not seen him
almost through the crack of the door as the butler opened it for her; but
by speaking just when and where she did, she forced him to get up from
Christine's side, and come to where she was to be introduced to her. Then
as dinner was at the same instant announced, she put her hand on his arm.

"Take me in to dinner, Cousin Max," she said.

"I did not know he was _your_ cousin," said Wickham, who suffered from
the fatal tendency in moments of doubt to say something.

Mrs. Almar looked at Riatt.

"Will you be a cousin to me?" she asked. "It commits you to nothing."

"I don't consider that an advantage," he returned, drawing his elbow
slightly inward, so that her hand, if not actually pressed, was made to
feel secure upon his arm. "There are some things I wouldn't a bit mind
being committed to."

Mrs. Almar moved her black head from side to side.

"You must be more specific," she said, "or I shan't understand you."

"More specific in words?" he inquired gently. They were crossing the
hall, and had a sort of privacy for an instant.

"Dear me," she returned, "you do move rather rapidly, don't you?"

"I'm an aviator, you see," he answered.

Across the table Christine was trying to be gracious and graceful while
she put up with Hickson, but she was feeling as any honest captain feels
at having a prize cut out from under hi