"My dear, Lord Dudley, the great English peer, is present. There's a catch for you." "I am not looking for a catch," Xenie said, almost bruskly. "No," said her aunt, who was an indefatigable matchmaker; "but then you are too young and beautiful to remain always single. You are sure to marry some day again, and why not Lord Dudley?" "He has not asked me, aunt," said Xenie, half-smiling, half-provoked. "I am not even acquainted with him." "No, but you will be," said Mrs. Egerton. "I heard him asking just now about you. He said you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen--a compliment worth having from such a man as Lord Dudley, so elegant and distinguished, with such an air of culture and travel. Besides, he is so wealthy, owning several castles in England, I'm told, and a fabulous bank account." "A distinguished _parti_, certainly," said Xenie, indifferently, and then, as her aunt moved away, she completely forgot Lord Dudley's existence. She stood leaning carelessly against a tall flower-stand, looking at the dancers, a little later, when Mrs. Egerton approached, leaning on the arm of a handsome gentleman, and then she found herself bowing and smiling in acknowledgement of an introduction to Lord Dudley. "I have been watching you a long time, Mrs. St. John," he said, taking his place by her side. "Your face puzzled me." "Indeed?" she said, raising her dark eyes to him with a kind of languid wonder. "Yes, it is true," he said. Then suddenly, as the intoxicating strains of a waltz began to pulsate on the perfumed air, he exclaimed, in a different tone: "Will you give me this waltz, Mrs. St. John?" She assented indifferently, and a moment later she was whirling down the long room, the envy of every woman at the ball, for every feminine present had set her cap at the distinguished traveler. His tall, proud form in the black evening dress showed to the most perfect advantage, as clasping her _petite_ and graceful form closely in his arm, they whirled round and round to the enchanting strains, looking, in the perfect accord and gracefulness with which they moved, like the spirit of harmony embodied. "That will be a match," predicted some of the wiseacres around, and those that did not say that much thought it to themselves. Among the latter class was a gentleman who had entered a moment before and now stood talking courteously to the hostess. It was she who had directed his attention to the handsome pair. "Look at Xenie," she said with a spice of malicious triumph in her tone. "That is Lord Dudley with whom she is waltzing. She has quite captivated him. Doubtless it will be a match." His eyes followed the flying form a moment steadily, then he answered calmly: "They are a handsome pair, certainly, Mrs. Egerton. I am acquainted with Lord Dudley." "You met him abroad, I suppose?" "No, we came over from England in the same----" But at that moment someone came hastily up and claimed his attention.