The deep blue eyes of Lester Vane rarely left her face, even when he was addressed by others. As often as she turned hers in his direction, which, with a motive, she did occasionally, she perceived his earnest, dreamy gaze fixed upon her. Twice or thrice it made her shudder, she knew not why. It was fixed, expressive, teeming with passion, but, if it possessed fascination, it was that of the serpent. Insensibly, every now and then her eyes wandered towards his, and settled for a moment upon them, each was conscious of the effect they were creating, and when Helen averted hers, a strange dread thrilled through her frame. Now, although the beautiful face of this girl absorbed so much of Vane’s gaze, he was not ignorant of the fact that there was another face possessing great claims to loveliness at the table. At first the timid reserve of Evangeline had caused him to pass her over unnoticed, but now that she sat almost opposite to him, he could not fail to notice her. She was attired in a dinner dress of pale blue and silver, and, being very fair, looked charming. Her gentleness and quietness prevented her attracting much attention. To the Duke she was mixed up with the lights, the plate, and Malcolm Grahame, but the eye of Vane marked her down. “I must fall in with her when she is alone,” he thought; “early in the morning or in byeways. She can be made, I am sure, to believe and to keep a secret, at any self-sacrifice.” Once more his eye fell upon Helen, who was turning her dark, bright eyes upon the Duke, and electrifying him with her beauty, while she confused him by the smartness of her sallies. “I will have her,” mused Lester Vane. “It may be a task surrounded with almost insuperable difficulties, but I will have her.” Margaret Claverhouse Grahame divided her attentions between her plate and the young Duke. She had estimated Lester Vane at pretty much his value, and therefore did not trouble her head any more about him. She fastened her gray eyes upon the Duke as often as her dinner would admit, and she came to the same conclusion respecting him that Lester Vane had with her sister Helen. “He must be mine. He is fat and awkward,” she thought, “but he is a duke, and I am born to bear the rank of a duchess.” On the period appointed by etiquette for the ladies to retire arriving, the young ladies, led by Mrs. Grahame, quitted the apartment, to leave the gentlemen to their wine. They were now on much more familiar terms with each other, and, as the ladies retired, the Duke rising with the gentlemen, said to Helen-- “Weally, Miss Gwahame, I gwow evwy day moah and moah convinced that the wegulation which dwove the ladies fwom our society, though only faw a time, was absolutely bawbawous; and the pwesent fashion which pwescwibes a limit to the sepawation, an intwo-duction of the most admiwable kind. Believe me, I shall, with all wespect to my hospitable host, count the minutes until we join you in the dwawing woom.”