"Bolton," he said, to her companion, "they are waiting for you in the
billiard-room; you have an engagement to play a game with our host
at twelve. It is now exactly the hour. I will take charge of Miss
Penrhyn;" and before the bewildered Bolton could protest, or Miss
Penrhyn realize his purpose, he had drawn the girl's arm through his
own and was half-way down the room.

"Where have I met you before?" he demanded, when they were safely lost
in the crowd. "Surely, we are not altogether strangers."

"I do not know," haughtily; "I have never met you before that I am
aware of."

"It is strange, but I cannot get rid of the idea that I have seen you
elsewhere," continued Dartmouth, unmoved. "And yet, if I had, I most
assuredly could not have forgotten it."

"You are flattering, but I must ask you to excuse me. I am engaged for
the next dance, and I see my partner looking for me."

"Indeed, I shall do nothing of the kind. I have no idea of resigning
you so lightly." And he calmly led her into a small withdrawing-room
and seated her behind a protecting screen. He took the chair beside
her and smiled down into her angry face. Her eyes, which had a
peculiar yellow flame in them, now within, now just without the iris,
as if from a tiny lantern hidden in their depths, were blazing.

"Well?" he said, calmly; "of what are you thinking?"