ppearance of the sun next morning--or, one should
rather say, the announcement of dinner to the tired and hungry shooting
men.

She was met at the foot of the grand staircase by her host, and
immediately surrounded. In the close press of friends she did not
notice the strangers; time was too short and they were too many. A lord
of her acquaintance, who still hoped to make her his lady, took her
into dinner, and called upon all her powers of wit and repartee to meet
his conversational tactics during the meal. It was an exhilarating
encounter, and of sufficient interest to keep her "eyes in the boat".
Moreover, the table was immense, and the chief of the strangers sitting
on her side of it, a long way off.

After dinner there was little comedietta played on the boards of the
toy theatre belonging to the house. Many of the ladies were in their
places before the men, still craving repose after their hard day's
work, could hoist themselves from their chairs in the dining-room. Deb,
having helped to coach one of the amateur performers, was early in her
seat in front. Some of her admirers did manage to squeeze in beside and
behind her from time to time, but the particular stranger haughtily
held aloof.

Then, when the play was over, there was an impromptu dance, for the
theatre was an ANNEXE to the ball-room. It was the young folk who began
it, but older ladies joined in, and all the men but the hardened
sportsmen, who saw a chance to sneak to their snuggery and gun-talk
before the time. The really old women, obviously past their dancing
days, sat around, and looked on and gossiped to one another. And for a
time Deb sat with them.

She was certainly tired--for her--and the fact struck her that she had
not danced for a long time. She had shirked balls, having only too many
entertainments to choose from. She thought it likely that she would be
stiff and heavy on her feet from want of practice--a horrible idea to
her, who had once danced like a feather in the wind. A good stone had
been added to her weight since she had last waltzed with satisfaction
to herself; that also was not a pleasing thought. So when her dinner
lord essayed to entice her, she shook her head. A dozen other men, and
the cream of them too--there was comfort in that--followed his example,
and made her charming compliments when she said laughingly that she was
"too old for these frivolities".

"Too old--gracious heavens!" they apostrophised space. It was