"Is Miss Glenwilliam here?" he inquired, carelessly.

"Yes, sir, in the front row, with Mrs. Verity and Mrs. Frant. Do you wish
to speak to her, sir? The Gallery's pretty empty."

Arthur Coryston went in. The benches sloped upward, and on the lowest one,
nearest the grille, he saw the lady of his quest, and was presently bending
over her.

"Well," he said, flushing, "I suppose you thought it all bosh!"

"Not at all! That's what you have to say. What else can you say? You did it
excellently."

Her lightly mocking eyes looked into his. His flush deepened.

"Are you going to be at the Frenshams' dance?" he asked her, presently.

"We're not invited. They're too savage with father. But we shall be at the
Opera to-morrow night."

His face lightened. But no more talk was possible. A Minister was up, and
people were crowding back into the Gallery. He hurriedly pressed her hand
and departed.




CHAPTER II