Some time after this meeting I saw Boyd Madras issue from the companion-
way dressed as a Greek. He wore a false beard, and carried off well his
garments of white and scarlet and gold--a very striking and presentable
man. He came slowly forward, looking about him steadily, and, seeing me,
moved towards me. But for his manner I should scarcely have recognised
him. A dance was beginning; but many eyes were turned curiously, and
even admiringly, to him; for he looked singular and impressive and his
face was given fulness by a beard and flesh paints. I motioned him aside
where there was shadow, and said: "Well, you have determined to see her?"

"Yes," he said; "and I wish you, if you will, to introduce me to her as
Mr. Charles Boyd.

"You still think this wise?" I asked.

"It is my earnest wish. I must have an understanding to-night."
He spoke very firmly, and showed no excitement. His manner was calm
and gentlemanly.

He had a surprising air of decision. Supporting an antique character, he
seemed for the moment to have put on also something of antique strength
of mind, and to be no longer the timid invalid. "Then, come with me," I
answered.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, and then, seeing where Mrs.
Falchion was, we advanced to her. The next dance on her programme was
mine. In my previous dance with her we had talked as we now did at
table--as we did the first hour I met her--impersonally, sometimes (I am
bold to say) amusingly. Now I approached her with apologies for being
late. The man beside her took his leave. She had only just glanced at