ever-to-be-desired gleam of mastery in his eye. It may have been
sometimes a wicked mastery, and more than one woman who admired him
because she could not help herself had said, "There is a devil in
his eyes."

They found Lady Marnham's reception hall full of guests, few of whom
Quentin had seen before. He was relieved to find that the prince was
not present, and he made his way to Dorothy's side, with Lady
Frances, coolly dropping into the chair which a young captain had
momentarily abandoned. Lady Frances sat beside Miss Garrison on the
divan.

"I am so glad you kept your promise, Phil, and came. It seems good
to see you after all these years. You bring back the dear days at
home," said Dorothy, delight in her voice.

"From that I judge you sometimes long for them," he said, simply. To
Lady Frances it sounded daring.

"Often, oh, so very often. I have not been in New York for years.
Lady Saxondale goes back so often that she doesn't have the chance
to grow homesick."

"I hear you are going over this fall," said Quentin, with a fair
show of interest.

"Who--who told you so?" she asked, in some surprise. He could not
detect confusion.

"Prince Ravorelli. At least, he said he expected to make the trip