He waited many days for a chance to speak to her; and finally the chance arrived, at an evening party. Curiously enough, he was more afraid of her in a simple morning frock, worn in her own house, with the little edging of white lace around the throat, than in evening dress, in all the splendor of her woman's beauty. He did not like her so well with bare neck, and bare arms, and a sweeping cloud of white about her, and white satin slippers. She was more like the other women one could meet in the world. She looked at him coldly; but none the less did he determine to speak to her. Her partner left her at once; and Vane led her into the embrasure of a window. "I want you to forgive me my question of the other afternoon." Miss Thomas made no answer. "You would, if you knew my excuse." "I don't see what possible excuse there can be," she said, gravely. "There is one--and the best of all excuses," he added, in a lower tone. "I do not understand you." "Are you sure?" said Vane, with a low laugh. She met his eyes, calmly, for an appreciable duration of time. "I wish you would tell me what it is," she went on seriously. "Some time, perhaps, I will." "Why not now?" Vane shook his head. "I will tell you when you take back the handkerchief." "I shall never take back the handkerchief." "You do not know how persistent I am. I shall ask you every week until you do." Miss Thomas slightly moved her shoulders. He could have fallen at her feet then and there. It was dark behind the curtain, all except her eyes, and she looked at him almost tenderly, and made no effort to end the conversation. Vane felt that he was very deeply in love with her. "Do you really wish to know the reason why I asked you that question?" he said, hastily. "Do you ask me now?" "Perhaps I shall ask you some time," she said, dropping her eyes. Vane bit his lip, and clenched his fingers, which had been dangerously near hers. At first he did not know what to reply. "As for the handkerchief, you shall surely take it some time. I will give it to you when you are married." She blushed deeply. "Thank you," she said, "I would rather have a new one, then. But it is time for me to go home--or--I think I should like an ice first. Will you get me one?" When Vane returned, two or three men were about her. She took the ice, but, after tasting it, put it aside indifferently. "I really think I must be going now," she said, giving her arm to one of her companions. Vane was determined not to be outdone, so he went to find her carriage, and had the pleasure of shutting the door himself; the two other men standing by. "Good night," said he, in a low tone. She made no reply until he had got back to the sidewalk; then, "Good night, every one!" she called out as the horses sprang away, restive with the cold. Vane went back to the supper-room to get a glass of champagne, and then walked home.