"Just for a moment's chat." And he seated himself as calmly as if he had received a gracious permission. "You are angry with me again, Winnie. Is my sister-in-law always to come between us?" She turned and her blue eyes flashed upon him. "Once and for all," she said sharply, "tell me why you hate Leslie so?" "Tell _me_ why she has poisoned your mind against me?" he retorted. "_She!_ Leslie Warburton! This goes beyond a joke, sir. Leslie Warburton _is_ what Leslie Uliman was, a _lady_, in thought, word, and deed. Oh, I can read you, sir! Her crime, in your eyes, is that she has married your brother. Is she not a good and faithful wife; a tender, loving mother to little Daisy? You have hinted that she does not love her husband--by what right do you make the assertion? You believe that she has married for money,--at least these are _fashionable_ sins! Humph! In all probability I shall marry for money myself." "Winnifred!" "I _shall_; I am sure of it. It's an admirable feature of our best society. If we are heiresses, we are surrounded with lovers who are fascinated by our bank account. If we are poor, we are all in search of a bank account; and many of us have to do some sharp angling." "My sister-in-law angled very successfully." "So she did, if you _will_ put it so. And she did not land her last chance; she might have married as wealthy a man as Mr. Warburton, or as handsome a man as his _brother_. But then," with a provoking little gesture of disdain, "Leslie and I never did admire handsome men." There was just a shade of annoyance in the voice that answered her: "Pray go on, Miss French; doubtless yourself and Mrs. Warburton have other tastes in common." "So we have," retorted the girl, rising and standing directly before him, "but I won't favor you with a list of them. You don't like Leslie, and I do; but let me tell you, Mr. Alan Warburton, if the day ever comes when you know Leslie Warburton _as I know her_, you will go down into the dust, ashamed that you have so misjudged, so wronged, so slandered one who is as high as the stars above you. And now I am going to join the dancers; you can come--or stay." The last words were flung at him over her shoulder, and before he could rise to follow, she had vanished in the throng that was surging to and fro without the alcove. He starts forward as if about to pursue her, and then sinks back upon the couch. "I won't be a greater fool than nature made me," he mutters in scornful self-contempt. "If I go, she'll flirt outrageously under my very nose; if I stay--she'll flirt all the same, of course. Ah! if a man would have a foretaste of purgatory let him live under the same roof with the woman he loves and the woman he hates!" A shadow comes between his vision and the gleam of light from without, and, lifting his eyes, he encounters two steady orbs gazing out from behind a yellow mask. "Ah!" He half rises again, then sinks back and motions the mask to the seat beside him.