As for Eddy Saumarez, though he was not much to look at, he was always a popular man, as he himself said, in a ball-room. He did not dance very gracefully, nor indeed, though his confidence in himself carried him through all kinds of performances creditably, was he a graceful person in anyway: but he was adroit, and despite his somewhat insignificant person, strong, and carried his partner skilfully through the most complicated crowd. His enjoyment of the evening was interrupted or increased (it would be difficult to say which) by the appearance of a man whom nobody knew, and most people took for one of the servants (a supposition very injurious to Mr. Rowland’s servants, who were well-made, well-set-up individuals, excellent specimens of humanity). Johnson wore an evening coat with long tails, too long for him, and a white tie with long ends too big for him, and gloves with half-an-inch of vacant finger, which made his hands look like a bundle of loose skeins of white yarn. His face wore an anxious look as he came in unnoticed, eagerly looking for the only face he knew. Even the genial Rowland, who was ready to welcome everybody, passed over this personage with vague surprise, supposing that he must belong to some reserve force of the pantry, or had been brought in in attendance on some guest. He knew nobody but Eddy, and Eddy, who was dancing without intermission, contrived never to catch his _protégé’s_ eyes. It was not that he was unconscious of the presence of this visitor, whom nobody took any notice of. On the contrary, Eddy kept a careful watch upon him in his corner. “Look yonder,” he said to his partner; “but don’t look as if you were looking. Do you see that queer little being in the corner? Oh, yes, I know him; but I don’t mean to see him. He has got an invitation here by mistake, and he depends on me to introduce him right and left.--Who is he? ah, that’s what I can’t tell. He is not a man I shall introduce to you. Did you ever see such a droll little beggar? I knew he would be fun. There he goes prowling into the other corner, where he thinks he will catch my eye. But I don’t mean him to catch my eye. Oh, you know well enough, don’t you, how to avoid seeing any one you don’t want to see? Cruel? no: he has no business to be here. The little brute must pay for his impudence. Reverse, shall we? Ah, he thought he had me then!” Eddy said with a laugh. “We were running right into him. But you’ll see I shall get clear away.” Perhaps Rosamond heard some part of this talk as her brother darted past. For it was she in all her pride who sailed up to poor Johnson in his corner, who was diving under the dancers’ arms and stretching over their shoulders, in a vain attempt to attract the attention of his false friend. “You are looking for my brother,” she said, “and he is paying no attention. He seldom does when it is not for his own advantage. But perhaps I may do as well.”