In the confusion that ensued, the musicians, hidden behind the floral screen, struck up a lively air. Some of the guests made quiet preparations for leaving. A group of those men--famous in the world of art and letters--under the influence of the wine they had taken so freely, laughed loudly at some coarse jest. Others, thinking, perhaps,--if they could be said to think at all,--that their host's attack was not serious, renewed conversations and bravely attempted to restore a semblance of animation to the interrupted revelries. Aaron King worked his way to the side of Conrad Lagrange, "For God's sake, old man, let's get out of here." "I'll find Rutlidge or Louise or some one," returned the other, and disappeared. As the artist waited, through the open door of an adjoining room, he caught sight of Sibyl Andrés; who, with her violin-case in her hand, was about to leave. Obeying his impulse, he went to her. "What in the world are you doing here?" he said almost roughly--extending his hand to take the instrument she carried. She seemed a little bewildered by his manner, but smiled as she retained her violin. "I am here to earn my bread and butter, sir. What are you doing here?" "I beg your pardon," he said. "I did not mean to be rude." She laughed, then, with a troubled air--"But is it not right for me to be here? It is all right for me to play for these people, isn't it? Myra didn't want me to come, but we needed the money, and Mrs. Taine was so generous. I didn't tell you and Mr. Lagrange because I wanted the fun of surprising you." As he stood looking at her so gravely, she put out her hand impulsively to his arm. "What is it, oh, what is it? How have I done wrong?" "You have done no wrong, my dear girl," he answered "It is only that--" He was interrupted by the cold, clear voice of Mrs. Taine, who had entered the room, unnoticed by them. "I see you are going, Miss Andrés. Good-night. I will mail you a check to-morrow. Your music was very satisfactory. An automobile is waiting to take you home. Good night." Before Aaron King could speak, the girl was gone. "Mr. Lagrange and I were just about to go," said the artist, as the woman faced him. "I hope Mr. Taine has not suffered severely from the excitement of the evening?" The woman's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright with feverish excitement. Going close to him, she said in a low, hurried tone, "No, no, you must not go. Mr. Taine is all right in his room. Every one else is having a good time. You must not go. Come, I have had no opportunity, at all, to have you to myself for a single moment. Come, I--" As she had interrupted Aaron King's reply to Sibyl Andrés, the cool, sarcastic tones of Conrad Lagrange's deep voice interrupted her. "Mrs. Taine, they are hunting for you all over the house. Your husband is calling for you. I'm sure that Mr. King will excuse you, under the circumstances." Chapter XXX In the Same Hour