several men waiting there, and one or two more entering the room and
looking languidly round.

"There comes the favoured one," Lady Cantourne muttered, with a
veiled glance towards her companion.

Sir John's grey eyes followed the direction of her glance.

"My bright boy?" he inquired, with a wealth of sarcasm on the
adjective.

"Your bright boy," she replied.

"I hope not," he said curtly.

They were watching a tall fair man in the doorway who seemed to know
everybody, so slow was his progress into the room. The most
remarkable thing about this man was a certain grace of movement. He
seemed to be specially constructed to live in narrow, hampered
places. He was above six feet; but, being of slight build, he moved
with a certain languidness which saved him from that unwieldiness
usually associated with large men in a drawing-room.

Such was Jack Meredith, one of the best known figures in London
society. He had hitherto succeeded in moving through the mazes of
that coterie, as he now moved through this room, without jarring
against any one.