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and whose face seemed frozen into a perpetual sneer, when a male voice exclaimed, “Can I believe it? Surely, dear lady, you cannot possibly be my little niece?”
    Elspeth turned to face two gentlemen whom she would scarcely have recognized but who smiled at her warmly. Sir Brian Beech’s coat and waistcoat were works of art but could not conceal the fact that he had become rather stout during the fourteen years since last she had seen him. His round face was thickly painted and rouged, a pearl glowed in one ear, a lacy handkerchief fluttered from one hand, a snuff-box was held in the other, and he minced along in jewelled shoes with high red heels. Elspeth thought an instinctive, ‘Faith! We’ve a Dandy in the family!’ His son Conrad, whom she remembered as a fat and untidy boy who delighted in practical jokes, had metamorphosed into a tall, slim gentleman, his good looks enhanced by garments of excellent cut and the latest fashion. Tonight they both wore powdered wigs and jewels sparkled in Conrad’s pleated stock and the foaming laces of his father’s cravat. Besides the heavily scented handkerchief that Sir Brian wafted about, they exuded an air of polite affluence and nothing marred their grace as they bowed over Elspeth’s hand.
    Sir Brian was overjoyed by their meeting, and as Madame Colbert joined them, he lost no time in begging permission to call on her the following day. “Since ’twould be most improper for me to monopolize my dear niece this evening,” he said, adding lightly that he was very sure all the unattached gentlemen in the room were eager to make the acquaintance of so lovely a young lady.
    Conrad said in a deep, well-modulated voice that perhaps they were speaking out of turn. “My cousin may be well acquainted with the company, sir.” One eyebrow lifted enquiringly and he went on, “And is likely already betrothed.”
    â€œNot possible, my son,” argued Sir Brian firmly. “A gentleman who won so fair a flower would be foolish in the extreme did he allow her to go into society without he was by her side.”
    Madame gave a ripple of laughter, and Elspeth, amused by such flattery, admitted that her uncle was correct in that she was not betrothed. Confirming that fact, Madame invited Sir Brian and his son to take tea with them the following day, and she swept Elspeth off to be presented to the rest of the company.
    The Dowager Lady Elmira Bottesdale was indeed present. She was a stout little lady, wearing a magnificent diamond tiara atop her powdered wig, and having a pair of snapping dark eyes and little resemblance to her sleepy son. She was gracious to Elspeth but startled her by asking suddenly if she was well acquainted with Sir Brian and Conrad Beech.
    â€œSir Brian is my mother’s half-brother, ma’am,” evaded Elspeth.
    The dowager nodded and said with a smile, “Which does not answer my question, does it, child? But then I understand he has been living in Europe for some years and returned to these shores only recently. One cannot but wonder what has brought him back … And indeed what led him to abandon England in the first place. Were I you, my dear, I would be consumed with curiosity.”
    At this point Lady Elmira’s attention was claimed by her daughter-in-law and four new arrivals. Moving on with her godmother, Elspeth murmured behind her fan, “What a very remarkable old lady!”
    â€œJust so,” answered Madame Martha. “With a shrewd mind and, if rumour speaks true, more intrigues than can be attributed to that French baggage who rules the Court of Versailles.”
    Reminded of her beloved brother, Elspeth suffered a pang and sent up a silent prayer for his survival.
    At dinner she was seated between an elderly and rather boring diplomatist who was subject to sudden sneezing attacks, and a pompous naval commodore who spoke of the East India Company as though it were