"No, no, no," exclaimed Lady Deane, tapping her foot impatiently and fixing her gray eyes on the General's now puzzled face. "Not the same old treadmill in Paris as in London! Not that, General!" "What then, my dear lady?" asked he. "Your wish is law to me," and it was true that he had become very fond of his earnest young friend. "What do you want to see? The Chamber of Deputies?" Sir Roger's voice struck in. "I'm not a puritanical husband, Bellairs, but I must make a stand somewhere. Not the Chamber of Deputies." "Don't be silly, Roger dear," said Lady Deane, in her usual tone of dispassionate reproof. "I can't find out where she does want to go to," remarked the General. "I can tell you," said Sir Roger, and he leant down and whispered a name; in the General's ear. The General jumped. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "I haven't been there since the fifties. Is it still like what it used to be?" "How should I know?" inquired Sir Roger. "I'm not a student of social phenomena. Maud is, so she wants to go." Lady Deane was looking on with a quiet smile. "She never mentioned it," protested the General. "Oh, of course if there's a worse place now!" conceded Sir Roger. "I'll make up my mind when we arrive," observed Lady Deane. "Anyhow I shall rely on you, General." The General looked a little uncomfortable. "If Deane doesn't object----." "I shouldn't think of taking my wife to such places." Suddenly Dora Bellairs rushed up to them. "Have you seen Mr. Ellerton?" she cried. "Where is he?" "In the smoking-room," answered Sir Roger. "Do you want him?" "Would you mind? I can't go in there: it's full of men." "After all we must be somewhere," pleaded Sir Roger as he went on his errand. "Dolly," said the General, "I've just made a charming arrangement. Lady Deane and Sir Roger start for Paris to-day week, and we're going with them. You said you'd like another week here." "It's charming our being able to go together, isn't it?" said Lady Deane. Dora's face did not express rapture, yet she liked the Deanes very much. "Oh, but----" she began. "Well?" asked her father. "I rather want to go a little sooner." "I'm afraid," said Lady Deane, "we shan't get Roger to move before then. He's bent on seeing the tennis tournament through. When did you want to go, Dora?" "Well, in fact--to--night." "My dear Dolly, what a weathercock you are! It's impossible. I'm dining with the Grand Duke on Monday. You must make up your mind to stay, young woman." "Oh, please, papa----." "But why do you want to go?" asked the General, rather impatiently. Dora had absolutely no producible reason for her eagerness to go. And yet--Oh, if they only knew what was at stake! "We're to be married in a fortnight!" She could see the words dancing before her eyes. And she must waste a precious week here! "Do you want me, Miss Bellairs?" asked Charlie Ellerton, coming up to them. "Yes. I want--oh, I want to go to Rumpelmayer's."