Lord Ragnall, looking more like a splendid Van Dyck than ever in his
evening dress, stepped forward to greet his fiancée and her mother with
a courtly bow, and I turned again to continue my contemplation of the
stalwart Judith and the very ugly head of Holofernes. Presently I was
aware of a soft voice--a very rich and thrilling voice--asking quite
close to me:

"Which is he? Oh! you need not answer, dear. I know him from the
description."

"Yes," replied Lord Ragnall to Miss Holmes--for it was she--"you are
quite right. I will introduce you to him presently. But, love, whom do
you wish to take you in to dinner? I can't--your mother, you know; and
as there are no titles here to-night, you may make your choice. Would
you like old Dr. Jeffreys, the clergyman?"

"No," she replied, with quiet firmness, "I know him; he took me in once
before. I wish Mr. Allan Quatermain to take me in. He is interesting,
and I want to hear about Africa."

"Very well," he answered, "and he _is_ more interesting than all the
rest put together. But, Luna, why are you always thinking and talking
about Africa? One might imagine that you were going to live there."

"So I may one day," she answered dreamily. "Who knows where one has
lived, or where one will live!" And again I saw that mystic look come
into her face.

I heard no more of that conversation, which it is improbable that anyone
whose ears had not been sharpened by a lifetime of listening in great