one called her "Cherub." Not long after this she made a remark
across the table to Baby de Mille, a strange jumble of syllables,
which sounded like English, yet was not. Miss de Mille replied, and
several joined in, until there was quite a conversation going on.
"Cherub" explained to him that "Baby" had invented a secret
language, made by transposing letters; and that Ollie and Bertie
were crazy to guess the key to it, and could not.

The dinner lasted until late. The wine-glasses continued to be
emptied, and to be magically filled again. The laughter was louder,
and now and then there were snatches of singing; women lolled about
in their chairs-one beautiful boy sat gazing dreamily across the
table at Montague, now and then closing his eyes, and opening them
more and more reluctantly. The attendants moved about, impassive and
silent as ever; no one else seemed to be cognizant of their
existence, but Montague could not help noticing them, and wondering
what they thought of it all.

When at last the party broke up, it was because the bridge-players
wished to get settled for the evening. The others gathered in front
of the fireplace, and smoked and chatted. At home, when one planned
a day's hunting, he went to bed early and rose before dawn; but
here, it seemed, there was game a-plenty, and the hunters had
nothing to consider save their own comfort.

The cards were played in the vaulted "gun-room." Montague strolled
through it, and his eye ran down the wall, lined with glass cases
and filled with every sort of firearm known to the hunter. He
recalled, with a twinge of self-abasement, that he had suggested
bringing his shotgun along!