of the unyachted Midlanders before him. However, among them, he
marked his mother; and his sombre grandeur relaxed momentarily; a more
genial light came into his eyes.

Isabel was dancing with the queer-looking duck; and it was to be noted
that the lively gentleman's gait was more sedate than it had been with
Miss Fanny Minafer, but not less dexterous and authoritative. He was
talking to Isabel as gaily as he had talked to Miss Fanny, though with
less laughter, and Isabel listened and answered eagerly: her colour
was high and her eyes had a look of delight. She saw George and the
beautiful Lucy on the stairway, and nodded to them. George waved his
hand vaguely: he had a momentary return of that inexplicable
uneasiness and resentment which had troubled him downstairs.

"How lovely your mother is!" Lucy said

"I think she is," he agreed gently.

"She's the gracefulest woman in that ballroom. She dances like a girl
of sixteen."

"Most girls of sixteen," said George, "are bum dancers. Anyhow, I
wouldn't dance with one unless I had to."

"Well, you'd better dance with your mother! I never saw anybody
lovelier. How wonderfully they dance together!"

"Who?"

"Your mother and--and the queer-looking duck," said Lucy. "I'm going