"I am the bearer of a message from Mrs. Woollffe," he says to Lady Etwynde, after greetings have been exchanged. "She says I am to insist on your all coming to supper with her. She has secured one or two professional and literary celebrities, and it will be very charming. She won't take no. There, I have delivered my message verbatim." He speaks hurriedly, and a little nervously. Colonel Carlisle looks at his "ladye love," and declares he is quite ready to accept if she is. Lady Etwynde, seeing how calm and indifferent Lauraine appears, is at a loss what to say. "We, I mean Lady Vavasour and I, were----" she stammers. Lauraine looks quickly up-- "I should be delighted to meet such charming society," she says. "I am quite ready to waive our previous engagement if you are, Etwynde." So there remains nothing but to accept, and Keith retires to inform Mrs. Woollffe of the success of his mission. "You are sure you do not mind?" asks Lady Etwynde kindly, as she bends forward to her friend, when they are alone. "Not in the least--why should I?" answers Lauraine. "And I always like Mrs. Woollffe. I should be sorry to offend her, and we have no excuse to offer." "And you never tell 'white lies,'" smiles Lady Etwynde. "Isn't she wonderful, Cyril?" "Lady Vavasour is indeed an example to most of her sex," answers the Colonel. "I thought they were all addicted to that harmless little practice. But I am glad you have decided upon going to Mrs. Woollffe's. I am delighted with her niece, although I have a remembrance of being 'questioned' within an inch of my life five minutes after my first introduction to them." "Do you remember that evening?" asks Lady Etwynde softly. "Do I not?" his eyes answer for him, as under cover of the dim light he touches her hand. She looks up and meets his glance, and smiles softly back with perfect understanding. Ah, no shadow of doubt or wrong will ever come between herself and him again. Lauraine notes that fond glance, that swift comprehension, and her heart grows sick and cold as she thinks of the emptiness of her own life. A woman never feels the want of love so much as when she sees another in possession of what she has lost. If beauty, wit, and intelligence can make a supper party brilliant, Mrs. Bradshaw Woollffe should have had no reason to complain. None of the "celebrities" disappoint. "Dresden China" is a host in herself, Colonel Carlisle is delightful, Lady Etwynde radiant. The only silent members of the party are Keith Athelstone and Lauraine.