Gartside followed and received an even sweeter, Tristan-und-Isolde smile, and the same proportion of her programme. The Seraph, arm-in-sling, hung unostentatiously on the outskirts of the crowd, and with much hesitation summoned courage to ask if she could spare him one to sit out. She gave him two, and extended it later to three.

I heard afterwards that at the end of the third he prepared to return to the ball-room.

"Who are you taking this one with?" she asked him.

"No one," he told her.

"Why not stay here, then?"

"Haven't you promised it to young Willoughby?"

"He'll survive the disappointment," said Sylvia lightly.

The Seraph shook his head. "May I have one later?" he asked. "You oughtn't to cut Willoughby, he's been looking forward to it."

Sylvia was not accustomed or inclined to dictation from others.

"Have you asked him?" she said, uncertain whether to be amused or angry.

"It wasn't necessary. Haven't you felt his eyes on you while you were dancing? He thinks you're the most wonderful girl in the world. There he's right. He'll treasure up every word you speak, every smile you give him; he'll send himself to sleep picturing ways of saving your life at the cost of his own. And he'll dream of you all night."

The Seraph's tranquil, unemotional voice had grown so earnest that Sylvia found herself growing serious in spite of herself.

"I wish you wouldn't discuss me with boys like that," she said, more to gain time than administer reproof.

"Should I have discussed you?" exclaimed the Seraph. "And would he have told me? Why can't you, why can't any girl understand the mind of a boy of fifteen? You'd make such men of them if you'd only take the trouble. Look at him now, he's thinking out wonderful speeches to make to you...."

"I _hope_ not," said Sylvia ruefully.

"He'll forget them all when he meets you. I was fifteen once."

"I wonder if you'll ever be more."

The Seraph made no answer.

"That wasn't meant for a snub," said Sylvia reassuringly.

"I know that."

Sylvia looked at him curiously. "Is there anything you _don't_ know?"

she asked as they descended the stairs to the ball-room.

"I don't even know if you're going to let me take you in to supper."

"I'm glad there's something."

"That's not an answer."

"Do you want to?"

"You ought to know that without asking."

"I'm afraid there's a great deal about you I _don't_ know."

Supper was ended and their table deserted before Sylvia put the question with which I had primed her that afternoon.

"Is there anything I _don't_ know? to use your own words," said the Seraph evasively.

"That's not an answer, to use yours."

"It's the only answer I can give," he replied, with that curious expression in his dark eyes that did duty for a smile.

"Why won't you tell me? I'm interested. It's about myself, so I've a right to know."

"But I can't explain; I don't know. It never happened before."

"Never?"

The Seraph thought over his first meeting with her the previous day.

"Never with any one else," he answered.

Sylvia shook her head in perplexity.

"I don't understand," she said. "Either it was just coincidence and you were talking without thinking, or else ... I don't know. It's rather funny. D'you want to smoke? Let's go out on to the terrace."

"The detectives are there."

"No, father said they weren't to appear to-night."

"They're out there."

"How d'you know?"

"I can hear them."

Sylvia looked round at the closed plate-glass windows.

"You _can't_," she said incredulously.

"Will you bet? No, I don't want to rob you. Shall I tell you something else? You opened a fresh bottle of scent to-night when you dressed for dinner. It's Chaminade, the same kind that you were using before, but this is fresher. Had you noticed it?"

The Seraph was considerably less impressed by his powers than Sylvia appeared to be.

"Anything else?" she asked after a pause.

The Seraph wrinkled his brows in thought.

"Gladys Merivale was coughing last night," he said. "Some one passed my door at two o'clock and went into her room. I don't know who it was, but it wasn't you. The coughing stopped for a time, but started again just before three. Then you passed by and went in."