"Remedy? No, it's temper, my dear. You see, there was a time when--when I didn't care whether he liked me or not; when I--when I--well, when I didn't care, as I said. And I think he felt I didn't. And I don't know whether I've ever quite got back." Ready with sympathy, Sibylla pressed the little richly beringed hand. "Oh, it's all right. We're very lucky. Look at the Courtlands!" "The poor Courtlands seem to exist to make other people appreciate their own good luck," said Sibylla, laughing a little. "I'm sure they ought to make you appreciate yours. Grantley and Walter Blake are two of the most sought-after of men, and you've married one of them, and made quite a conquest of the other to-night. Oh, here come the men!" Young Blake came straight across to them, and engaged in a verbal fencing-match with Christine. She took him to task for alleged dissipation and over-much gaiety; he defended his character and habits with playful warmth. Sibylla sat by silent; she was still very ignorant of all the life they talked about. She knew that Christine's charges carried innuendoes from the way Blake met them, but she did not know what the innuendoes were. But she was not neglected. If his words were for gay Christine, his eyes were very constantly for the graver face and the more silent lips. He let her see his respectful admiration in the frank way he had; nobody could take offence at it. "I suppose you must always have somebody to be in love with--to give, oh, your whole heart and soul to, mustn't you?" Christine asked scornfully. "Yes, it's a necessity of my nature." "That's what keeps you a bachelor, I suppose?" He laughed, but, as Sibylla thought, a trifle ruefully, or at least as though he were a little puzzled by Christine's swift thrust. "Keeps him? He's not old enough to marry yet," she pleaded, and Blake gaily accepted the defence. Their talk was interrupted by Lady Harriet's rising; her brougham had been announced. Grantley telegraphed his readiness to be off too, and he and Sibylla, after saying good-night, followed the Courtlands downstairs, Raymore accompanying them and giving the men cigars while their wives put their cloaks on. Grantley asked for a cab, which was some little while in coming; Tom Courtland said he wanted a hansom too, and stuck his cigar in his mouth, puffing out a full cloud of smoke. At the moment Lady Harriet came back into the hall, Sibylla following her. "Do you intend to smoke that cigar in the brougham as we go to my mother's party?" asked Lady Harriet. "I'm not aware that your mother minds smoke; but as a matter of fact I'm not going to the party at all." "You're expected--I said you'd come." "I'm sorry, Harriet, but you misunderstood me."