Moreover, Spencer had other qualifications which are not without their influence on the fair sex. He had a considerable fortune, and he was the next in succession to an ancient earldom. If the Earl of Southleigh, a widower, did not marry again, he would succeed to the title and estates. He was, in every sense of the term, an eligible _parti_. The long, weary War was drawing to its close. The two men were dining at the fashionable "Excelsior" and were now about half-way through their dinner. Spencer had the bearing of a soldier, and he would have been at the Front long ago, but no doctor could be found who would pass him. To all appearance, he possessed the thews and sinews of an athlete, but the stalwart, manly frame covered an incurably weak heart, which played him strange tricks at times. He was serving his country in the best way open to him, and doing good, sound clerical work in a Government Office. "When do you suggest we should put in an appearance at Mrs L'Estrange's?" he asked presently. "It will take us another half-hour to get through this abundant meal. You will then have your coffee, and you will want a good and long cigar. We began rather late, you will remember. By the time you have got through your smoke, we will make a move. We shall then find them in full swing." Guy nodded, and went on with his dinner. He was quite willing to go to the L'Estrange flat: he had no other engagement this evening, and it would be something to do. But he was not greatly interested about meeting the most beautiful girl in London. In spite of his friend's almost lyrical outbursts, he expected that Miss Stella Keane would prove a very ordinary young woman. Suddenly Tommy Esmond uttered an exclamation. "Look, there they are," he whispered excitedly across the table. "Mrs L'Estrange and her cousin. The man with them is Colonel Desmond, the man who won the Victoria Cross in the Boer War." Tommy's round face was red with pleasurable emotion. Was there any doubt, thought Spencer, that the little man was tremendously smitten by the beautiful Miss Keane? Would it result in a marriage, he wondered? Tommy was well-off, and a person of some importance in his little social world. And if Miss Keane was as lovely as his fond imagination painted her, it was quite evident that she was poor. Penniless young girls have before now accepted the shelter of a safe home, even when offered by comical-looking little elderly men. The three newcomers moved to a vacant table; Mrs L'Estrange, a woman of middle age, dressed rather more youthfully than was quite in good taste, their escort, a tall figure in khaki, very upright and soldierly in his bearing, in spite of his sixty years, and last, but by no means least, the beautiful Miss Keane.