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long throat.
    To the man in the dimness of the hall below she seemed to be bathed in sunlight; he caught the brilliance of her complexion, her arresting, bewildering smile.
    â€œOh, Lord Warchester, this is kind!” Cynthia hurried down and greeted the stranger effusively. “Joan, dear, this is Lord Warchester—-my cousin, Miss Davenant.”
    The look in Warchester’s eyes as he bent low over Joan’s hands did not escape Mrs. Trewhistle. With a little throb of congratulation she told herself that it would be all right, that things would go as she wished.
    â€œYou must bid Lord Warchester welcome home, Joan,” she said as she moved to the tea-table. “We are all so glad to have him.”
    Joan gazed intently at the man’s dark face. She felt in a curious way that somewhere she and Lord Warchester had met before. Then, as he smiled, she told herself that she was mistaken; she must have seen a chance resemblance to his predecessor, the old Lord Warchester, whom she had met occasionally in the course of her walks and drives.
    â€œI suppose you are very glad to be back,” she said simply.
    â€œVery glad to be once more among my old friends,” he returned in his deep, pleasant voice. “Among them I used to be fortunate enough to count Mrs. Davenant. I am hoping to be allowed to call upon her soon.”
    â€œUpon Granny!” Joan exclaimed in genuine amazement.
    He laughed.
    â€œYes. Why do you look surprised? Your Uncle Guy and I were great friends. I believe that as Paul Wilton I had the honour of being a favourite of Mrs. Covenant’s. Of course I understand his death has made a tremendous difference in her mode of life, but I am hoping she will be persuaded to see me.”
    â€œJoan! Joan! Come and have your tea! We have so little time to spare!” Cynthia called from her seat near the fireplace. “Lord Warchester, as soon as tea is over we are going to give Joan a dancing lesson—Reggie and I. Positively the poor child has never been taught. You will have to retire to the smoking-room.”
    â€œOh, but why should I be banished?” Warchester protested, his grey eyes smiling as they rested on his hostess’s vivacious face. “May I not help with the lesson?”
    Cynthia looked at him for an instant with her head on one side as she rose.
    â€œI remember that I danced with you two or three times before I was married, and you were splendid! Yes, you may come if you like, may he not, Joan? 
    Warchester’s dark face was unusually animated as he followed them to the ball-room. It was already prepared for the dance, and Mrs. Trewhistle looked at the shining expanse of floor with satisfaction. She seated herself at the piano and began to play a dreamy waltz.
    â€œNow, Reggie,” she commanded, “I have taught Joan the steps, but positively the poor child has never danced with a proper partner in her life.”
    Reggie Trewhistle came forward obediently. He was a stout, rather vacuous-looking man, already growing bald.
    â€œNow, Joan, allow me—”
    â€œIf you please, sir, Mr. Cairns would be glad if you could speak to him for a moment; he desired me to say that his business was very important.”
    The butler was standing in the doorway regarding them benevolently.
    â€œOh, bother!” exclaimed Reggie. “I had forgotten Cairns. I must see him for a minute or two. Warchester, take my place till I come back, there’s a good fellow!”
    â€œWith pleasure!” Warchester stepped forward and laid his hand lightly on Joan’s arm. “One, two, three—now!” He swung her round. Joan in her nervousness was inclined to forget all Mrs. Trewhistle’s carefully imparted instructions at first, but very soon her feet began to keep time to the music instinctively, the rhythm of the motion grew upon her, and she drew a deep breath of delight as they glided round the room. She was far too