"Another time, if you please," she said, with a most cutting calm. "As I said before, it is late. If I had been equal to entertaining you"--she looked round upon them all--"I should not have told my butler to make my excuses. As it is, I must beg you to allow me to bid you good-night. Jacob, will you kindly get the Duchess her cloak? Good-night. Good-night. As you see"--she pointed to the sticks which supported her--"I have no hands to-night. My infirmities have need of them." Montresor approached her again, in real and deep distress. "Dear Lady Henry--" "Go!" she said, under her breath, looking him in the eyes, and he turned and went without a word. So did the Duchess, whimpering, her hand in Delafield's arm. As she passed Julie, who stood as though turned to stone, she made a little swaying movement towards her. "Dear Julie!" she cried, imploringly. But Lady Henry turned. "You will have every opportunity to-morrow," she said. "As far as I am concerned, Miss Le Breton will have no engagements." Lord Lackington quietly said, "Good-night, Lady Henry," and, without offering to shake hands, walked past her. As he came to the spot where Julie Le Breton stood, that lady made a sudden, impetuous movement towards him. Strange words were on her lips, a strange expression in her eyes. "_You_ must help me," she said, brokenly. "It is my right!" Was that what she said? Lord Lackington looked at her in astonishment. He did not see that Lady Henry was watching them with eagerness, leaning heavily on her sticks, her lips parted in a keen expectancy. Then Julie withdrew. "I beg your pardon," she said, hurriedly. "I beg your pardon. Good-night." Lord Lackington hesitated. His face took a puzzled expression. Then he held out his hand, and she placed hers in it mechanically. "It will be all right," he whispered, kindly. "Lady Henry will soon be herself again. Shall I tell the butler to call for some one--her maid?" Julie shook her head, and in another moment he, too, was gone. Dr. Meredith and General Fergus stood beside her. The General had a keen sense of humor, and as he said good-night to this unlawful hostess, whose plight he understood no more than his own, his mouth twitched with repressed laughter. But Dr. Meredith did not laugh. He pressed Julie's hand in both of his. Looking behind him, he saw that Jacob Delafield, who had just returned from the hall, was endeavoring to appease Lady Henry. He bent towards Julie. "Don't deceive yourself," he said, quickly, in a low voice; "this is the end. Remember my letter. Let me hear to-morrow." As Dr. Meredith left the room, Julie lifted her eyes. Only Jacob Delafield and Lady Henry were left. Harry Warkworth, too, was gone--without a word? She looked round her piteously. She could not remember that he had spoken--that he had bade her farewell. A strange pang convulsed her. She scarcely heard what Lady Henry was saying to Jacob Delafield. Yet the words were emphatic enough.