Hench laughed and smiled in a friendly way at Gwen, who was smiling in a friendly way at him. She looked wonderfully fresh, attractively delightful, as delicate as Titania and wholly as fascinating. Her dress of plain white silk adorned with black ribbons, hinting at mourning, became her well in its dainty simplicity, and Owain felt again that queer heart-throb which informed him very distinctly that this was the one girl in the world for him. No woman could be lovely unless she had golden hair and blue eyes and a complexion of cream and roses. He wondered how he ever could have admired Zara, who did not possess these necessary charms. But when he was attracted by the dancer he was a fool, now he intended to be a wise man and lay his heart at Gwen's feet. Whether she would pick it up had yet to be seen, for she gave no intimation of her feelings. "When you two finish grinning at one another like a couple of Chinese dolls, perhaps you will remember that I am present. Sit down, young man. Are you very hungry? I have a very good dinner for you." "Splendid! I'm not hungry, Mrs. Perage, but I am greedy." "Pooh! That joke is as old as the hills. Be more original." "That's difficult. How can I be original, Miss Evans?" Hench asked the question with ceremonious courtesy, which made Mrs. Perage smile, knowing what she did know. "I think you are original," said Gwen brightly. "You saved my life!" "Hum!" came the boom of Mrs. Perage, "and that's originality, is it?" "Well, I don't make a practice of saving lives," laughed Hench lightly. "And I don't think I ever saved any one before. So I _am_ original, you see." The old dame smiled grimly, as she relished the young man's flippant conversation. "One grows so tired of common-sense," she murmured, following her own thoughts. "Why, you are always commending common-sense," exclaimed Gwen, lifting her eyebrows and laughing. "In its place, child, in its place. To-night you and Mr. Hench can talk nonsense, as it will make me feel young." "You _are_ young, Mrs. Perage," said Owain seriously. "Your heart is in its spring-time. You are one whom the gods love." "Ta! Ta! Ta! young Chesterfield. Don't make me blush, as I have long since forgotten how to do so. You and your compliments, indeed! Not but what I wear tolerably well, although a trifle time-worn," which final sentence showed that Mrs. Perage had her little vanities.