Mike looked at her in despair. She was adorably frail and adorably
pale.

"This is very cruel of you." Words seemed very weak, and he feared
that in the restlessness and pain of his love he had looked at her
foolishly. So he almost welcomed Lady Helen's intrusion upon their
_tête-à-tête_.

"And this is the way you come for your dance, Mr. Fletcher, is it?"

"Have they begun dancing? I did not know it. I beg your pardon."

"And I too am engaged for this dance. I promised it to Mr. Escott,"
said Lily.

"Let me take you back."

He gave her his arm, assuring himself that if she didn't care for him
there were hundreds who did. Lady Helen was one of the handsomest
women in London, and he fancied she was thinking of him. And when he
returned he stood at the door watching her as she leaned over the
mantelpiece reading a letter. She did not put it away at once, but
continued reading and playing with the letter as one might with
something conclusive and important. She took no precaution against
his seeing it, and he noticed that it was in a man's handwriting, and
began _Ma chère amie_. The room was now empty, and the clatter of
knives and forks drowned the strains of a waltz.

"You seemed to be very much occupied with that young person. She is