have other chances of calling upon Irene Derwent! Ah, but, to be
sure, he must provide himself with visiting-cards. A trifling point,
but he had since reflected on it with some annoyance.

A hand was extended to him, a pink, delicate, but shapely hand,
which his eyes fell upon as he stood in half-reverie. He exchanged
civilities with Arnold Jacks.

"I think some particular friends of yours are here," said Arnold.
"The Derwents----"

"Indeed! Are they? Miss Derwent?"

Piers' vivacity caused the other to examine him curiously.

"I only learned a day or two ago," Arnold pursued, "that you knew
each other."

"I knew Miss Derwent. I haven't met Dr. Derwent or her brother. Are
they here yet? I wish you would introduce me."

Again Arnold, smiling discreetly, scrutinised the young man's
countenance, and for an instant seemed to reflect as he glanced
around.

"The Doctor perhaps hasn't come. But I see Eustace Derwent. Shall we
go and speak to him?"

They walked towards Irene's brother, Piers gazing this way and that
in eager hope of perceiving Irene herself. He was wild with delight.