She laughed harshly, then almost cried out as she heard Geoffrey Pelham’s voice behind her. “I suppose you are laughing at your guests,” he said, as he took a chair opposite. “The girls look charming, but the men—well, some of them give pain to a student of anatomy. I wonder if I may smoke?” “Please do.” Gita had hastily lowered her feet and tucked them under her long skirts. “You never could guess what I was laughing at and I’ll never tell you. How do you like dancing?” “Good exercise, I should think; but dancing with Miss Pleyden is like dancing with a ball of thistle-down. I felt as if I should be chasing instead of trying to dance with her.” “If a girl isn’t light she’s not much of a dancer.” The answer was mechanical. She was watching his long sensitive fingers roll a cigarette. “You must be a wonderful surgeon,” she said. “One’s feet are much like one’s hands, I suppose, and perhaps that is the reason you learned to dance so quickly.” He reddened and grinned. “That’s an idea! Are all your ideas as original as that?” Gita never blushed, but she lowered her eyelashes more under the frank admiration of his gaze than at the compliment. “Eustace says I have flashes of intelligence. I suppose he’s at that punch-bowl again.” And she frowned. “Eustace can carry a good deal, I fancy. Don’t worry.” “I’ve no intention of worrying, but I suppose you know we are to be married tonight, and I don’t care to see him held up by two of his friends, equally lit—as, no doubt, has happened often enough in this house.” “Are you to be married tonight? Elsie hadn’t told me.” He was staring at her with an expression that made her change her position suddenly and the curious sensation in her nerve-centers gave her the uncomfortable impression that some other Gita Carteret, who had worn this gown, perhaps—heaved suddenly in her long sleep. “I was sure she had told you——” “I only had a moment with Elsie tonight. She was at home when I arrived, to make sure I’d wear this costume; and as I gave her some trouble I suppose she forgot everything else.” “But Eustace told me he not only intended to ask you to be his best man but to walk down the stair with me——” “I haven’t seen Eustace for a month. If he’s written I’ve missed the letter——” “But you will, won’t you?” “I shall be highly honored.” He shook his shoulders impatiently. “What time is the ceremony?” “At midnight. Then we go in to supper, and after that we have the Christmas tree. Then we’ll dance till morning, when Eustace’s friends will probably carry him home——Oh! How stupid of me! I should have asked him to stay here, but we’ve been so rushed.” “Oh——Ah——” Pelham found himself stuttering. “It will be a unique wedding and nothing else would be appropriate for you. . . . Do you know?” he burst out irrepressibly, “I believe I should have fallen in love with you tonight if you hadn’t already been bespoken—and by my best friend. . . .”