"Don't you care for dancing?" said Lady Helen, with tears running down her cheeks. "Ra-ther; see me dance the polka, dear girl." And they went banging through the dancers. Snowdown and Dicky shouted approval. "What cheer, 'Ria! 'Ria's on the job. What cheer, 'Ria! Speculate a bob. 'Ria is a toff, and she is immensikoff-- And we all shouted, What cheer, 'Ria!" Amid the uproar Lady Helen danced with Lily Young. Insidious fragilities of eighteen were laid upon the plenitudes of thirty! Pure pink and cream-pink floated on the wind of the waltz, fading out of colour in shadowy corners, now gliding into the glare of burnished copper, to the quick appeal of the 'Estudiantina.' A life that had ceased to dream smiled upon one which had begun to dream. Sad eyes of Summer, that may flame with no desire again, looked into the eyes of Spring, where fancies collect like white flowers in the wave of a clear fountain. Mike and Frank turned shoulder against shoulder across the room, four legs following in intricate unison to the opulent rhythm of the 'Blue Danube'; and when beneath ruche-rose feet died away in little exhausted steps, the men sprang from each other, and the rhythm of sex was restored--Mike with Lily, and Frank with Helen, yielding hearts, hands, and feet in the garden enchantment of Gounod's waltz. * * * * * * The smell of burnt-out and quenched candle-ends pervaded the apartment, and slips of gray light appeared between the curtains. The day, alas! had come upon them. Frank yawned; and pale with weariness he longed that his guests might leave him. Chairs had been brought out on the balcony. Muchross and his friends had adjourned from the supper-room, bringing champagne and an hysterical lady with them. Snowdown and Platt were with difficulty dissuaded from attempting acrobatic feats on the parapet; and the city faded from deep purple into a vast grayness. Strange was the little party ensconced in the stone balcony high above the monotone of the river. Harding and Thompson, for pity of Frank, had spoken of leaving, but the lords and the lady were obdurate. Her husband had left in despair, leaving Muchross to bring her home safely to Notting Hill. As the day broke even the "bluest" stories failed to raise a laugh. At last some left, then the lords left; ten minutes after Mike, Frank, Harding, and Thompson were alone. "Those infernal fellows wouldn't go, and now I'm not a bit sleepy." "I am," said Thompson. "Come on, Harding; you are going my way." "Going your way!" "Yes; you can go through the Park. The walk will do you good." "I should like a walk," said Escott, "I'm not a bit sleepy now." "Come on then; walk with me as far as Hyde Park Corner." "And come home alone! Not if I know it--I'll go if Mike will come." "I'll go," said Mike. "You'll come with us, Harding?" "It is out of my way, but if you are all going ... Where's John Norton?" "He left about an hour ago."