Sir Archie came across the room in his usual deliberate fashion, as self-possessed and impassive as if he were quite ignorant that he had kept a roomful of people waiting. Lady Wolfer gave him her hand without breaking off her conversation with the prime minister, who was chatting and laughing with the carelessness of a boy, and as if he had never even heard of a ministerial crisis. "Afraid I'm late," said Sir Archie, in slow and even tones. "Cab horse fell down--nearly always does when I'm behind one. Strange." "I will hand your excuse to the cook," said Lady Wolfer. "I hope he will believe it. None of us do, I assure you." The butler announced dinner, and the party coupled and filed in, the earl taking a dowager duchess, a good-natured lady with an obvious wig and cheeks which blushed--with rouge--like unto those of a dairymaid. Nell fell to the lot of an undersecretary for the colonies, who was so great a favorite of the prime minister's that no one dreamed of asking the great man without sending an invitation to his friend, who was generally known as "Sir Charles." Like most clever men, he was simplicity itself, and he watched Nell through his pince-nez as she surveyed the brilliant line of guests round the long, oblong table, with an interest in her interest. "How well Lady Wolfer is looking to-night," he said, staring at the hostess at the head of the table. Her eyes were bright, a faint flush on her cheeks, and her soft hair, which her maid had arranged as advantageously as short hair can be dressed, shone in the subdued light of the shaded candles. "One is so accustomed to seeing her in--well," and he smiled, "strictly business garb, that full war paint strikes one with the revelation of her prettiness." "Yes; isn't she pretty?" said Nell eagerly. "But I always think she is; though, of course, I like her best in evening dress." He smiled at the promptitude of her ingenious admiration. "If I had my way, your sex should always wear one of two costumes: a riding habit or dinner dress." "That would be rather inconvenient," said Nell. "Imagine walking out on a wet day in a habit or a ball frock!" "I know," he said. "But I don't think you ought to walk out on a wet day." "You ought to live in Turkey," said Nell, with a laugh. "That is rather neat," he said approvingly; "but pray, don't repeat my speech to Lady Wolfer; she would think me exceedingly frivolous, and I spend my time in the endeavor to convince her of my gravity and discretion." "Are all politicians supposed to be grave?" asked Nell, glancing at the prime minister, who had just related an anecdote in his own inimitable manner, and was laughing as heartily as if he had not a care in the world. Sir Charles followed her eyes and smiled.