Isabel, not knowing that she had been listening to the litany of wasted lives, turned in disgust and cast about for an excuse to leave before Stone ordered another bottle of champagne. She encountered a gleam of amusement in Gwynne's eyes, and it seemed to transfer her to an empty auditorium, while mankind performed its little tricks on the stage for her sole benefit. It was a subtle tribute, and she blushed under it. She was also gratified to observe that Paula was boring him. But she glanced away, lest he should think she had forgiven him. At the same moment she saw a young man that had sat with his back to them, and opposite the famous Mrs. Hofer, suddenly push back his chair, rise to his feet, and look sharply at Gwynne. Then he came rapidly down the room, and Gwynne rose and met him as if lifted to his feet by the hospitality beaming from the large bright shrewd capable face of the Californian. "This is Mr. Gwynne! Is it really?" he exclaimed, taking the stranger's hand in a large warm grasp. "I am Nicolas Hofer. Your mother wrote you? We have only been back a short time--I had intended running up to see you. I knew you for a Britisher the minute you entered the room, but the word was only just passed about who you were. Do--please--waive formality and lunch with me at my house to-morrow. Then we'll motor about a bit and I'll show you something of the city. Glad the fine weather holds out. No denial. I expect you." And he skilfully took himself off, before Gwynne should feel obliged to introduce him to his party. "Now, what do you think of that for California manners, and the arrogance of the rich?" demanded Paula, triumphantly. "Not a bit of it," replied Stone, amiably. "Man was in a hurry. Can't you see his wife waiting for him? Never knew a Californian to put on airs in my life." By this time his optimism was complete. "Only women imagine such things. There are as many poor as rich in San Francisco society. Only some of us are too poor, and Bohemia is better anyway. Well, let's hit the pike. This room is too hot for my head." XXI