But down by gliding, stately Thames, Jimmie was fatherly. She must be careful here, keep quiet; a good deal of romping went on--and girls could not behave as married women could. "I'm your godfather here, you see." His dark face came close to hers, showing the crinkles round his eyes, the hard lines near his mouth; but he was at the age girls delight to worship. Someone who knows the mysteries they only dream of; someone so different to honest, pleasant boys, who thought more of sport than their companions. Friendship! It was Jimmie Gore Helmsley's deadly weapon; there was nothing to frighten the maid--he was only a pal--a pal to win her confidences, to tell her how sweet she looked, to point out the perfect smoothness of her fresh young skin, to find beauty in the lights in her hair, the curves of her dimpled neck; to take her about discreetly in town, to walk and talk with her at country houses; to listen, with a face set a little wistfully, about some boy who adored her. Frank or Tom was a good sort, a brick; youth went to youth; heaven send she would be happy, and--appreciated--that the blind boy would see plainly the perfection of the treasure he was winning. Ah! if someone who could see could win it! After this, next day, meeting her young lover, mademoiselle the debutante would fret and sulk because Frank or Tom talked of his last score at cricket, or his great day with the Team, instead of worshipping her beauty. And, later, the confidences would grow fewer; would come a day when the boy's image faded; when a fool's heart beat for the world-worn man who set her up as goddess, and then.... There were broken hearts and lives in high society which could tell the rest. There were women, married now, who shivered angrily at one hidden corner in their lives. This nut-brown maid, with her grey eyes and cloud of dusky hair, appealed to Jimmie. He came with a careless zest to each new conquest. But first there was bright, flashing Esmé, paid court to now for half a year. The girl attracted vaguely as yet. Esmé's careless coldness had made him the more determined, but to-day he felt more confident. Dinner was in two rooms, divided by an arch; the clatter of voices, the flash of lights at the little tables, made it like a restaurant. Belle Bellew, slim and tall, perfectly preserved, sorted her more important guests, took scant trouble with the others. The drawing-room almost dazzled Sybil. Lights glowed through rose petals; jewels flashed on women's dresses and necks and arms; silks shimmered; chiffons floated round cleverly-outlined forms. The finger-bowls at dinner all held stephanotis flowers; the cloying, heavy scent floated through the hot air.