Mrs. Bede Greatorex's rooms were lighted up, shutting out the remains of daylight, when Roland Yorke entered them. For it was to get himself up for this soirée that Roland had gone home in a commotion, calling for half the people in the house to wait on him. The company was large, elbowing each other as usual, and fighting for space on the staircase and landing with the beauteous plants that lined the walls. Whatever might be Mrs. Bede's short-comings in some of the duties of life, she never failed in one--that of gathering a vast crowd at her bidding. This evening was to be great in music; and some of the first singers and performers of the day had been secured to delight the company; at what cost, was known only to Bede's pocket. Roland's chief motive in coming to it--for he did not always attend when invited--was to get an interview with Miss Channing. The vision of her tearful face, seen in the morning, the revelation contained in the careless words of Jane Greatorex had been making a hot place in his breast ever since. Roland wanted to know what it meant, and why she put up with it. His eyes went roaming into every corner in search of Annabel; but he could not see her. "Ill-conditioned old she-stork!" ejaculated Roland, apostrophising the unconscious Mrs. Bede Greatorex. "She has gone and kept her out of the way tonight." In consequence of this failure in his expectations, Roland had leisure to concentrate his attention on the general company; and he did it in a slightly ungracious mood; his blood was boiling up with the awful injustice (imaginary rather than real) dealt out to the governess. "And all because that nasty conceited little pig, Jane Greatorex, must get an education." "What's that, Roland?" Roland, in his indignation, had spoken so as to be overheard. He turned to see the bright face of Hamish Channing, who had entered the room with his wife on his arm. "You here, Hamish! Well, I never!" "I have come out of my shell for once," said Hamish. "One cannot be a hermit always, when one has an exacting wife. Mine threatened me with unheard-of penalties if I didn't bring her tonight." "Hamish!" exclaimed Mrs. Channing. "He does nothing but talk against me, Roland. It is good for him to come out sometimes. "I say, I can't see Annabel," cried Roland, in a most resentful tone, as he, still hoping against hope, cast his eyes in search of her over people's heads. "It's a thundering shame she is a prisoner upstairs tonight, I suppose, taking care of Jane Greatorex." "But that's no reason why you should call the little lady names," laughed Hamish. "I called her a little pig," avowed Roland. "I should like to call somebody else a great pig; to her face too; only she might turn me out for my bad manners. If there is one thing I hold in contempt more than another, Hamish, it is a Tyrant." "Does _that_ apply to Miss Annabel Channing?"