"My partners for the regular dances are busy eating boned turkey, while I am left lamenting. I am not engaged for the extras." "Ah! that is fortunate! Let me introduce you, then, in due form. Mr Gloucester--Miss Strangeways... You are a lucky man, Rob, to find Miss Strangeways disengaged." She rustled away, and the tall man seated himself by Vanna's side with a sigh of content. He did not ask for dances, however, and it was she who made the first move towards conversation. "Have you really just arrived, or is that merely a figure of speech? You have not been dancing at all?" He shook his head. "I have not been in the room five minutes. I am an even worse offender than you suppose, for I am staying in the house. I did not intend to come down at all. I was going to bed, but there was such a confounded noise going on that there seemed no chance of sleep--" For the first time that evening Vanna found herself surprised into a bright, natural laugh. The man's utter unconsciousness redeemed his remark from any hint of rudeness; and she felt nothing but pure refreshment in so unusual a point of view. She leant back in her chair, looking at him over the top of a waving fan, with a scrutiny as frankly unembarrassed as his own. The deep tan of his skin spoke of a sojourn under eastern skies, as did also the lines round the eyes--the result of constant puckerings to avoid the sun's glare. His hair was brushed in a straight line across his forehead, the chin itself was slightly square, but the line of the jaw was finely, even delicately rounded; he was clean shaven, and his mouth was good to look at, the lips well shaped, and fitting closely together. His age might have been anything from thirty to thirty-five, but there was something inherently boyish in manner and expression. "You evidently don't care for dancing." "No! I'm out of practice. I have been abroad for the last ten years, in out-of-the-way places for the most part, where balls don't come into the programme. I'm afraid I'm not much of a partner, but if you will be good enough to try--" "But I am not anxious to dance any more. I am tired and hot. If you are contented to talk--" "You mean it? Really? That _is_ jolly!" he cried eagerly. "Then, what do you say--shall we go to the balcony? It's quieter there, and we may get a breath of air. There are some comfortable chairs, I know, for I helped to arrange them." Vanna rose, nothing loath. The evening was closing more pleasantly than she had anticipated, for this Mr Gloucester was a distinct change from the ordinary habitue of the ballroom, and his conversation promised to afford some interest. She seated herself in a corner of the balcony and put a leading question: "You say you have lived abroad. Where does that mean? India?" "India mostly; but I have done a lot of wandering about." "Are you by any chance a soldier?" "Thank Heaven, no!"