Alec Sachs, who had been dancing with his sister, brushed past Reuben in the throng, and the latter was mechanically aware of hearing him say to his partner: “Mixed, very mixed! A scratch lot of people _I_ call it.” Lionel Leuniger came rushing up to him in all the glory of an Eton suit and a white gardenia. “So you’ve come at last, Reuben! You are very late, and all the pretty girls are engaged. Have a programme?” Reuben did not answer. By this time the ball-room was almost empty, and he could see clearly into the room beyond, where a red cloth recess had been built in from the balcony. CHAPTER XII. There are flashes struck from midnights, there are fire-flames noondays kindle, Whereby piled-up honours perish, whereby swollen ambitions dwindle.... * * * * * Oh, observe! Of course, next moment, the world’s honours, in derision, Trampled out the light for ever. BROWNING: _Christina_. There were two people sitting there, to all appearance completely absorbed in one another. In the distance, Judith’s head bending slightly forward, her profile, the curves of her neck and bosom, and the white mass of her gown, were to be seen clearly outlined against the red. And another figure, in close proximity to the first, defined itself against the same background. Reuben started--Judith and Lee-Harrison! His apathy, his fatigue, his uncertainty as to seeking Judith vanished as by magic. Outwardly he looked impassive as ever as he strolled into the all but deserted ball-room. It would have taken a close observer to perceive, the repressed intensity of his every movement. There was a draped alcove dividing the front and back drawing-rooms where Caroline Cardozo and Adelaide were standing as Reuben sauntered towards them. “I hardly expected to see you,” cried his sister as Reuben stopped and greeted the ladies. Adelaide was not enjoying herself. Her social successes, such as they were, were not usually obtained in the open competition of the ball-room. “Am I too late for a dance?” asked Reuben, turning with deference to Miss Cardozo. She handed him her card with a faint smile; there were two or three vacant places on it. A great fortune (I am quoting Esther), though it always brings proposals of marriage, does not so invariably bring invitations to dance. Caroline Cardozo was a plain, thin, wistful girl, with a shy manner that some people mistook for stand-offishness, who was declared by the men of the Leunigers’ set to be without an atom of “go.” Her wealth and importance notwithstanding, she was, as Rose in her capacity of hostess explained, difficult to get rid of. Reuben, his dance duly registered, stood talking urbanely, while scrutinizing from beneath his lids the pair on the balcony. A nearer view showed him the unmistakable devotion on Bertie’s little fair face, which was lifted close to Judith’s; he appeared to be devouring her with his eyes.