"Venus," said Lord Beltravers shortly, "and Samson." He led her down the steps and into the ornamental garden, and there they sat down. "Miss French," said Lord Beltravers, "or if I may call you by that sweet name, 'Gwendolen,' I have brought you here for the purpose of making an offer to you. Perhaps it would have been more in accordance with etiquette had I approached your mother first." "Mother is dead," said the girl simply. "I am sorry," said Lord Beltravers, bending his head in courtly sympathy. "In that case I should have asked your father to hear my suit." "Father is deaf," she replied. "He couldn't have heard it." "Tut, tut," said Lord Beltravers impatiently; "I beg your pardon," he added at once, "I should have controlled myself. That being so," he went on, "I have the honour to make to you, Miss French, an offer of marriage. May I hope?" Gwendolen put her hand suddenly to her heart. The shock was too much for her fresh young innocence. She was not _really_ engaged to Giles Earwaker, though he too was hoping; and the only three times that Thomas Ritson had kissed her she had threatened to box his ears. "Lord Beltravers," she began---- "Call me Beltravers," he begged. "Beltravers, I love you. I give you a simple maiden's heart." "My darling!" he cried, clasping her thumb impulsively. "Then we are affianced." He slipped a ring off his finger and fitted it affectionately on two of hers. "Wear this," he said gravely. "It was my mother's. She was a de Dindigul. See, this is their crest--a roeless herring over the motto '_Dans l'huile_'." Observing that she looked puzzled he translated the noble French words to her. "And now let us go in. Another dance is beginning. May I beg for the honour?" "Beltravers," she whispered lovingly. CHAPTER IV EXPOSURE The next dance was at its height. In a dream of happiness Gwendolen revolved with closed eyes round Lord Beltravers of Beltravers Castle, Beltravers. Suddenly above the music rose a voice, commanding, threatening. "Stop!" cried the Lady Beltravers. As if by magic the band ceased and all the dancers were still. "There is an intruder here," said Lady Beltravers in a cold voice. "A milkmaid, a common farmer's daughter. Gwendolen French, leave my house this instant!" Dazed, hardly knowing what she did, Gwendolen moved forward. In an instant Lord Beltravers was after her. "No, mother," he said, with the utmost dignity. "Not a common milkmaid, but the future Lady Beltravers." An indescribable thrill of emotion ran through the crowded ball-room. Lord Hobble's stud fell out; and Lady Susan Golightly hurried across the room and fainted in the arms of Sir James Batt. "What!" cried the Lady Beltravers. "My son, the Last of the Beltraverses, the Beltraverses who came over with Julius Wernher (I should say Cæsar), marry a milkmaid?" "No, mother. He is marrying what any man would be proud to marry--a simple English girl."