The Twelfth Hour

was so abnormally good-tempered, and seemed so exceedingly elated about something, that

transformed into a ladies' cloak-room. On his own writing-desk were an oval silver mirror, a large powder-puff, and several packets of hairpins. All trace of politics seemed to have been completely wiped out. Sir James tho

as yet, of course, said anything to Sylvia, but proposed, unless her father objected, to try to win her fair hand that very evening. It was a triumph, even for Sylvia. Sir James laughed, as he only laughed when alone. But on looking up from the letter what he saw jarred

rry. In fact, any time will do as long as she comes at once. Wait a moment, wait a moment. Don't be so precipitate, Price.

ofton is quite ready. La

it doesn't matter.

Sir

ffed out round her wilful little face, looked as though it were poudré. She wore a striped brocade gown all over rosebuds, an

pretty girl going about refusing people in conservatories-like a short story in a magazine! I've forgotten how I did it. In a year, darling? Quite. I say, have I overdone the dix-huitième business?

ion," said Sylvia, rather unpractically. "No, you're no

imply won't stand it. Let's go down. But first tell me what you will say when Mr. Rid ... Oh, bother, I can't say all that. Let us call him the man. 'Mi

es I think the whole thing is

rt of tin jewelled bath, crammed with orchids and carnations? Frank Woodville was

ille taking it awa

in slowly, brushed his sisters aside like flies, and stood looking at himself in the long mirror, which reache

pt every trace of expression out of his face.

ate? He's frightfully pleased about something. He flew out at me and said I ought to work for my button-holes, as he did. Really rather rot! I said, 'Well, fa

icity's eye, and sighed with an effort, heavily. Then, with his usual air of

looked very gay and charming. Sir James beamed as various names, more or less well known in various worlds, were incorrectly announced. Felicity wen

face and inscrutable air was looking up as he spoke to De Valdez, the famous

ho, though an Englishman, had much of the Spanish grandee in his manner and bearing. He had a great contempt for th

e said, as if i

e smiled at the composer as Roy Beaumont went upstairs, leaving

ne certain sign that a party is a success. The incorrect labelling of celebrities seemed to be an even more entrancing occupation than flirting to the strains of the Viennese Band. A young girl with red hair and eager eye-glasses, wh

ably c

r James. He writes all those books that no one can understand-

ote, 'Oh the Little Crimson Pansies' and 'The Garden of Ali

er of fact, I am F. J. Rivers myself. Isn't it a pity? I'm so sorry. And I'm afraid I am not w

on. "I was being so natural. I had no

wond

al atmosphere of this house, and I read all the serious magazines and

as really so intellectual here?"

ettishly going down, or sitting in corners à deux, dreamily. The heavy scent of red rosebuds hung over all. So b

what they call an intelligent interest

k so, indeed!"

ed as he tried to remember what

ed of you," she said. "Will yo

ut with reckless lavishness Mr. Chamberlain, Beerbohm Tree, Arthur Balfour, Madame Melba, Filsen Young,

one's happy eating, and you needn't bother. Just come out, one second-on t

so you

room to a part of the garden that had been boarded and enclosed, forming with

ight I haven't been utterly wr

kind of you to

sort of thing I have to stand-utterly ignored-I suppose y

k! Why, I

ou re

ny one-not even yourself-but I'm we

th with a shock, they saw, looking at them steadily through

e faded away, feeling as if he wer

since this half-hour.... I was coming to ask if I might have the great honour of taking you to suppe

" said Sylvia.

Crofton. What a very interes

an?" Sylvia as

re he is clever. Your father's-er-secretary,

nk he is clever. Quite an old friend,

y, and made no allusion of any sort the whole evening, either to the floral tribute

oom all was gai

e Valdez, presenting Felicity with a plover's egg, as he

on't they? But why aren't you

t was Bertie Wilton, whom Mrs. Ogilvie had brought on the grounds that he could have danced if it had been a dance, and that he was the son of Lady

ing every moment more and more-Don't take that plover's egg, Lady Chetwode! It isn't fair! You have given me the sole ri

plate, as an old friend-out of kindnes

ter." Mr. Wilton firmly removed the plover's egg and placed it on the next table, at which Rivers and the red-haired girl were stil

was remarkably good-looking with his sparkling blue eyes and mischievous expression, and Felicity glanced at him with approval. He would do very well-for the e

years," said Bertie Wilton in

t of you!-How did

neous-sympath

n? I should call it telep

But how is it you're so

ink," she s

n a previous existence,"

s I can do to remember the people I meet in this existence. I

ough it sounds rather agricultural-while at the same time you might have knocked me down with a f

d any feathers with

aise.)-I mean the kind of thing one does-waiting, waiting-at last asking, for instance, to c

r long, isn't it?" Felic

see you the day after

morrow!" she exclaimed in s

e?" he persi

xt Monday-at fiv

eadful. I can't wait till Monday, I can'

Monday. After all, why trouble? There

be engaged again! I'll never call on any on

E, as you say. Not that I ever heard of any one call

of you! Did you say five? Can

y we

n front of the house strewing flowers from three till half-past four

," said Felicity. "I'll try to get up

ind! Do you think me v

o, only

olde; at least, it's like Tristan. You can't look m

s not there for her to tell him all about the conversation going home! This t

essly in love with him, his latest book. He had arranged to take her and

by means of a wineglass, two knives, and a saltspoon, his new invention for having one's boots fastened by electricity, which was to do for Marconigr

for his kindness and politeness to dear old ladies and shy young men. A romantic affection for a certain widow, whom his friends said he spoke of as "Agatha, Mrs. Wilkinson,"

What a collection my dear brother-in-law has assembled to-night. Half

ou have perhaps heard of rather too o

ts proper season. My dear husband always said stra

re for primeurs. Personally, I admit that I am absolutely sick of asparagus by April, but I th

you want, and being thoroughly spoilt, like all men of

s. Crofton, that under all my outward misery I generally h

rilliant woman. Her sister is a beautiful girl, and her

ile," said Jasmyn. "He's such a man of the w

okanaki took an opportunity to ask

said. "I have an idea-it may be perfectly wr

; surprised at his

hen, at eight,

. Thanks