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and eligible, and five or six other gentlemen had solicited her hand for a dance more than once or stopped to exchange pleasantries if they saw her on Bond Street or Oxford Street or strolling in Hyde Park.
    They could put the unfortunate incident of their visit to Middlebury Park out of their minds, her mama remarked on the fifth morning after their return while they were at breakfast. Miss Ginty had invited Philippa to a picnic at Richmond during the afternoon and there was to be a party of young people with them as well as Mrs. Ginty, of course, to act as chaperon. Mr. Mendelhall was to be one of their number. He had singled out Philippa for particular attention ever since her come-out, and everyone knew that he was in possession of a substantial fortune.
    “I believe we may be confident of an offer from him before too many weeks have passed,” she said, smiling at her daughter and looking at her husband.
    Mr. Mendelhall was good-looking in a boyish sort of way, and he had agreeable manners and easy conversation. Philippa enjoyed his company and that of her other new friends. Indeed, she told herself at the end of a very pleasant afternoon, she was one of the most fortunate ofmortals. If she tried to list all her blessings, she would grow weary long before reaching the end of the list.
    Except that Julian had not come.
    And five days seemed like forever .
    How much longer would he stay away?
    Mrs. Ginty’s coachman set down the steps of the barouche when she arrived home, and she turned on the pavement to offer her thanks and say her farewells. There was a flurry of merry good-byes as the butler opened the door of the house and held it for her, and the barouche went on its way.
    Philippa ran up the steps and into the house—and almost collided with someone coming the other way.
    He caught her upper arms in his hands to steady her and took one step back from her.
    And suddenly the determinedly cheerful smile she had brought into the house with her so that her mama and papa would smile in return and believe her happy—suddenly her smile glowed with all the sunshine in the world.
    “Julian!” she cried.
    “Miss Dean.” He dropped his hands from her arms and made her a bow, and she was reminded of the presence of the butler and perhaps other persons not far off.
    “Mr. Crabbe,” she said.
    She could not tear her gaze from his face. His skin had a dark tone to it, as though it was sun-bronzed. She had forgotten that about him. It was a fact that made him more than just handsome.
    “I came to pay my respects to Mrs. Dean,” he told her, “and to assure myself that you had returned safely from Gloucestershire. I was fortunate enough to find Mr. Dean at home too.”
    “Oh,” she said, disappointment suddenly taking the place of the first euphoria of seeing that he had come at last. She had missed his visit. “I have been to Richmond for a picnic.”
    “I trust you enjoyed it,” he said. “You have certainly had a lovely day after all the rain of the past week. Mrs. Dean has informed me that you will be at Lady Ingersoll’s ball tomorrow evening, and she has kindly granted me permission to solicit your hand for a set of dances there.”
    “Oh.” Her eyes devoured him.
    “Will you waltz with me?”
    “Oh,” she said again, less happily. “No, not the waltz, I am afraid. I have not yet been granted permission.”
    “Permission?” He frowned. “That archaic social law is still in force, is it? Would you waltz with me if you were permitted?”
    “But I am not, alas,” she told him. “I have been out for only—”
    He set a finger briefly over her lips and winked slowly at her. For a moment he looked like the old roguish Julian who had so attracted her when she was sixteen.
    “I said if ,” he reminded her. “ If you were allowed to waltz, would you waltz with me ?”
    “For all the rest of my life,” she said.
    And for a moment there was that intense look in his eyes before he smiled and bowed