Speaking quite seriously, I cannot suppose that such a fascinating person has often appeared; never, surely, a more decorative? And it was “all but settled”! Why, then, those glances toward our end of the table? Because they were not for me, as I have already acknowledged. Kirby? The bullet-head, with its close-cropped wire-thick hair? Could that draw her eyes from the glories of Val’s sable-silver crown? These things are unaccountable; such really appeared to be the case. III After dinner I used the freedom of old acquaintance to ask Lady Lexington precisely what she meant by saying that it--the alliance between Miss Constantine and Valentine Hare--was “all but settled.” We chanced to be alone in the small drawing-room; through the curtained archway we could see the rest of the company formed into groups. Val was again by Miss Constantine’s side; Kirby was now standing facing them, and apparently doing most of the talking. “He hasn’t asked her in so many words yet,” said Lady Lexington; “but he will soon, of course. It’s been practically settled ever since she came to stay here--after her father’s death, you know. And it’s an ideal arrangement.” “Suppose she refuses him?” “I sha’n’t suppose anything so ridiculous, George,” said my friend sharply. “I hope I have more sense! What girl would refuse Valentine?” “It would be heterodox,” I admitted. “It would be lunacy, stark lunacy. Even for her--I admit she has a right to look high--but even for her it will be a fine match. He’s got everything before him. And then look how handsome, how fascinating he is!” She laughed. “Old as I am, I wouldn’t trust myself with him, George!” “I haven’t met Kirby here before,” I observed, perhaps rather abruptly. “Mr Kirby? Oh, he’s quite a _protégé_ of Frank’s. We met him in Switzerland last winter, and Frank and he did all sorts of unsafe things together--things you oughtn’t to do in winter.” “He probably stops the avalanches with his head.” “I really don’t know where he comes from or who he is, but he’s in the Colonial Office, and Frank says they think enormous things of him there. I like him, but, do you know, he’s rather hard to keep up a conversation with. He always seems to say the last thing about a subject first.” “Very bad economy,” I agreed. “Some people--well, I have heard people say it’s hardly polite--when they’re just thinking of something to say themselves, you know----” “He probably can’t help it,” I pleaded. “Katharine seems to like him, though, and I daresay she’ll get Val to give him a lift in the future.” “You’re treating it as quite settled.” “Well, it really is; I feel sure of that. It might happen any---- Why, look there, George! Suppose it happened to-night!”