"Where to?" asked the driver, as he readied down for my bag. It was the question I had been asking myself all the way in the train. "That's just it," I said miserably, "I don't know." He was a sympathetic-looking cabman--not one of the modern type, but the aged director of a thin horse and a genuinely antique four-wheeler. "It's rather an awkward situation," I explained doubtfully; "you see, Dorice forgot--I mean I'm supposed to be going to a dance somewhere round here. I was told to drive straight to the hall--I don't know _what_ hall." "That's all right, Sir," answered the sympathetic cabman encouragingly; "you were told to drive straight to the 'all; that'll be Naughton 'All." He proceeded to awaken the thin horse. "There is a big do on there to-night, Sir. It's a fair way out, but I'll 'ave yer there in no time." "My dear good man," I remonstrated nervously, "for heaven's sake don't rush at things like that. Is this particular dance you wish to take me to given by some people named Perry?" "Perry? Lord! no! Sir John Oakham, lives at Naughton 'All. It's '_is_ party." The sympathetic cabman was a little pained at my ignorance. Dorice had not said who was actually giving the dance. With vague misgivings I climbed into the cab. "Go ahead," I said, with my heart in my boots; "drive away and let's get it over." It was a long drive, and more than once I was nearly killed through hanging my body from the cab window in a vain attempt to catch a glimpse of Dorice in one or other of the motors that passed us on the road. At Naughton Hall I looked out for her expectantly. There was not a soul in the room that I knew. In a fit of dreadful panic I began to search desperately. Dorice was nowhere to be found, and the hand started upon the first waltz. To me it was like a nightmare. One thing I remember was finding myself dancing with a Miss Giggleswick. I don't pretend to explain how it happened. As far as I can make out, some hospitably disposed person decided that he was expected to know me and find me a partner. Anyhow, I danced with a Miss Giggleswick, and also I talked to her. I asked her very seriously if she knew anything of Dorice. Miss Giggleswick thought I was referring to some new authoress. "Yes--yes," she said thoughtfully, "I must have read some of them, but I can't remember which ones--I'm so silly about names." After a time I pulled myself together, and somehow escaped from Miss Giggleswick. I made my way to the cloakroom, grabbed my coat and bag, and rushed for the front door. Once outside I ran for my life. I ran down the drive and along the road towards Naughton. I floundered on blindly through thick mud and pools of water. "A fine night!" shouted a cheerful ass as I struggled past him. I pulled up sharply and peered at him through the darkness. "A fine night? Oh, yes, it's a fine night," I laughed wildly; "but just tell me one other thing. Is there any other hall in this district except Naughton Hall?"