Stella took up the bouquet; it was composed almost entirely of white blossoms, and smelt divinely. "They are beautiful," she said. "Heliotrope and camellias--my favorite flowers." "It must have been instinct," he said. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I chose them," he said, in the same low voice. "Chose them?" she retorted. "Yes," and he smiled. "That was what made me late. I came in here first and had a grand review of the bouquets. I was curious to know if I could guess your favorite flowers." "You--you--changed them!" said Stella, with a feeling of mild horror. "Lord Guildford asked me just now what I considered the most audacious act a man would commit. I know now." He smiled. "I changed something else," he said. Stella looked at him inquiringly. There was a bold smile in his dark eyes. He pointed to the little tablet bearing his name. "This. I found it over the way there, next to that old lady in the emeralds. She is a dreadful old lady--beware of her. She is a politician, and she always asks everybody who comes near her what they think of the present Parliament. I thought it would be nicer to come over here." The color crept slowly into Stella's face, and her eyes dropped. "It was very wrong," she said. "I am sure Lady Wyndward will be angry. How could you interfere with the arrangements? They all seem so solemn and grand to me." He laughed softly. "They are. We always eat our meals as if they were the last we could expect to have--as if the executioner was waiting outside and feeling the edge of the ax impatiently. There is only one man here who dares to laugh outright." "Who is that?" asked Stella. He nodded to Lord Guildford, who was actively engaged in bending his head over his soup with the air of a hungry man. "Charlie," he said--"Lord Guildford, I mean. He laughs everywhere, don't you, Charlie?" "Eh? Yes, oh, yes. What is he telling you about me, Miss Etheridge? Don't believe a word he says. I mean to have him up for libel some day." "He says you laugh everywhere," said Stella. Lord Charles laughed at once, and Stella looked round half alarmed, but nobody seemed to faint or show any particular horror. "Nobody minds him," said Lord Leycester, balancing his spoon. "He is like the King's Jester, licensed to play wheresoever he pleases." "I'm fearfully hungry," said Lord Charles. "I've been in the saddle since three o'clock--is that the _menu_, Miss Etheridge? Let us mark our favorite dishes," and he offered her a half-hold of the porcelain tablet on which was written the items of the various courses. Stella looked down the long list with something like amused dismay. "It's dreadfully long," she said. "I don't think I have any favorite dishes." "No; not really!" he demanded. "What a treat! Will you really let me advise you?" "I shall be most grateful," said Stella.