being himself, despite the Big House and the magnificent scale on which
it operated.

Between the first and second gongs, all the guests drifted into the
long dining room. Sharp after the second gong, Dick Forrest arrived
and precipitated cocktails. And Graham impatiently waited the
appearance of the woman who had worried his eyes since noon. He was
prepared for all manner of disappointment. Too many gorgeous stripped
athletes had he seen slouched into conventional garmenting, to expect
too much of the marvelous creature in the white silken swimming suit
when it should appear garbed as civilized women garb.

He caught his breath with an imperceptible gasp when she entered. She
paused, naturally, for just the right flash of an instant in the
arched doorway, limned against the darkness behind her, the soft glow
of the indirect lighting full upon her. Graham's lips gasped apart,
and remained apart, his eyes ravished with the beauty and surprise of
her he had deemed so small, so fairy-like. Here was no delicate midget
of a child-woman or boy-girl on a stallion, but a grand lady, as only
a small woman can be grand on occasion.

Taller in truth was she, as well as in seeming, than he had judged
her, and as finely proportioned in her gown as in her swimming suit.
He noted her shining gold-brown hair piled high; the healthy tinge of
her skin that was clean and clear and white; the singing throat, full
and round, incomparably set on a healthy chest; and the gown, dull
blue, a sort of medieval thing with half-fitting, half-clinging body,
with flowing sleeves and trimmings of gold-jeweled bands.

She smiled an embracing salutation and greeting. Graham recognized it