of
Sir Nigel. For a breathless space there was that dramatic silence
which may be felt when a concourse of people literally hold their
breath. Miss Abingdon covered her face for a moment, and Jane heard
Peter say 'Good God!'

The next moment the danger was over, and Jane was surreptitiously
handing Miss Sherard a handkerchief drenched in eau-de-Cologne, for
Kitty had sat down suddenly and her face was white. She did not speak,
but she looked up into Jane's face for a moment, and the look said as
plainly as possible, 'I can't help it--don't tell any one.'

'It was a horribly near thing,' Jane said, in order to explain Kitty's
pallor to herself, 'and I 'm afraid it has given you rather a turn.'

Miss Sherard's feeling of faintness was only momentary, and already the
bright colour was in her cheeks again and she laughed and said, 'It was
not the jump, really, Jane; but I am a horrible gambler, and I put my
very last shilling on Toffy.'

CHAPTER VI

Mrs. Ogilvie's ball, according to an old-established custom, followed
closely on the race. The proximity of the two events had helped to
gain for the quiet countryside the reputation of a gay neighbourhood.
Country houses were filled with visitors, and the ballroom and the
famous picture-gallery at Bowshott received an even larger number of
guests than usual. There was something impressive in the great space
and width of the ballroom, with its polished floor. The palm-houses
had been emptied to form an avenue of green up the middle of the
picture-gallery, at whose extreme end an altarpiece, representing a
scene from the Book of Revelation, showed a company of the heavenly
host as a background to a buffet-table crowded with refreshments. The
constant movements and the brilliant lights provided a fitting air of
gaiety to the scene. It was Mrs. Ogilvie's whim to have her rooms
illuminated in a manner as nearly as possible to represent the effect
of tempered sunlight. 'No woman cares to see,' she used to say, 'she
wants to be seen.' And so the lights at Bowshott were always arranged
in such a way that the beauty of women should be enhanced by them.
Plain faces softened under the warm glow which had no hard shadows in
it, and beautiful faces were lighted up in a manner that was almost
extravagantly becoming.

'It is only on such an occasion as this,' said Miss Abingdon, 'that one
really seems to think that Bowshott is put to its proper use.'

She was talking