n drooped; but he had lost all reckoning of time when he
opened them again to find Miss Erroll in furs and ball-gown kneeling on
the hearth and heaping kindling on the coals, and her pretty little
Alsatian maid beside her, laying a log across the andirons.

"Upon my word!" he murmured, confused; then rising quickly, "Is that
you, Miss Erroll? What time is it?"

"Four o'clock in the morning, Captain Selwyn," she said, straightening
up to her full height. "This room is icy; are you frozen?"

Chilled through, he stood looking about in a dazed way, incredulous of
the hour and of his own slumber.

"I was conversing with Kit-Ki a moment ago," he protested, in such a
tone of deep reproach that Eileen laughed while her maid relieved her of
furs and scarf.

"Susanne, just unhook those two that I can't manage; light the fire in
my bedroom; _et merci bien, ma petite!_"

The little maid vanished; Kit-Ki, who had been unceremoniously spilled
from Selwyn's knees, sat yawning, then rose and walked noiselessly to
the hearth.

"I don't know how I happened to do it," he muttered, still abashed by
his plight.

"We rekindled the fire for your benefit," she said; "you had better use
it before you retire." And she seated herself in the arm-chair,
stretching out her ungloved hands to the blaze--smooth, innocent hands,
so soft, so amazingly fresh and white.

He moved a step forward into the warmth, stood a moment, then reached
forward for a chair and drew it up beside hers.

"Do you mean to say you are not sleepy?" he asked.

"I? No, not in the least. I will be to-morrow, though."

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yes--rather."

"Wasn't it gay?"

"Gay? Oh, very."

Her replies were unusually short--almost preoccupied. She was generally
more communicative.

"You danced a lot, I dare say," he ventured.

"Yes--a lot," studying the floor.

"Decent partners?"

"Oh, yes."

"Who was there?"

She looked up at him. "_You_ were not there," she said, smiling.

"No; I cut it. But I did not know you were going; you said nothing about
it."

"Of course, you would have stayed if you had known, Captain Selwyn?" She
was still smiling.

"Of course," he replied.

"Would you really?"

"Why, yes."

There was something not perfectly familiar to him in the girl's bright
brevity, in her direct personal inquiry; for between them, hitherto, the
gaily impersonal had ruled except in moments of lightest badinage.

"Was it an amusing di