At his tone Eve laughed again. The boy, with his frank and ingenuous nature, had beguiled many a dull hour for her in past days, and she had missed him not a little when his place had been filled by Greening. “But I mean seriously, Bobby. Has something good turned up?” Blessington made a wry face “Something is on its way--that's why I am on duty to-right. Old Bramfell and the pater are working it between them. So if Lady Bramfell or Lady Astrupp happen to drop a fan or a handkerchief this evening, I've got to be here to pick it up. See?” “As you picked up my fans and handkerchiefs last year--and the year before?” Eve smiled. Blessington's face suddenly looked grave. “I wish you hadn't said that,” he said. Then he paused abruptly. Out of the hum of talk behind them a man's laugh sounded. It was not loud, but it was a laugh that one seldom hears in a London drawing-room--it expressed interest, amusement, and in an inexplicable may it seemed also to express strength. Eve and Blessington both turned involuntarily. “By Jove!” said Blessington Eve said nothing. Loder was parting with Lakely, and his was the laugh that had attracted them both. The interest excited by his talk was still reflected in his face and bearing as he made his way towards them. “By Jove!” said Blessington again. “I never realized that Chilcote was so tall.” Again Eve said nothing. But silently and with a more subtle meaning she found herself echoing the words. Until he was quite close to her, Loder did not seem to see her. Then he stopped quietly. “I was speaking to Lakely,” he said. “He wants me to dine with him one night at Cadogan Gardens.” But Eve was silent, waiting for him to address Blessington. She glanced at him quickly, but though their eyes met he did not catch the meaning that lay in hers. It was a difficult moment. She had known him incredibly, almost unpardonably, absent-minded, but it had invariably been when he was “suffering from nerves,” as she phrased it to herself. But to-night he was obviously in the possession of unclouded faculties. She colored slightly and glanced under her lashes at Blessington. Had the same idea struck him, she wondered? But he was studiously studying a suit of Chinese armor that stood close by in a niche of the wall. “Bobby has been keeping me amused while you talked to Mr. Lakely,” she said, pointedly. Directly addressed, Loder turned and looked at Blessington. “How d'you do?” he said, with doubtful cordiality. The name of Bobby conveyed nothing to him. To his surprise, Eve looked annoyed, and Blessington's fresh-colored face deepened in tone. With a slow, uncomfortable sensation he was aware of having struck a wrong note. There was a short, unpleasant pause. Then, more by intuition than actual sight, Blessington saw Eve's eyes turn from him to Loder, and with quick tact he saved the situation.