Then his model arrived, and he flung himself into his painting, and kept the other subject out of his head, except that he had never been so merciful in the matter of rests. He dined out, and the first person he saw on entering the room was Mrs Marchmont. She came towards him very cordially. "You were as good as your word, and sent the dreadful man." "Did Miss Lascelles say that he was dreadful?" asked Everitt, flattering himself that he spoke indifferently. "Bell told me he had a very fierce expression. I have not seen Kitty. But it was nice of you to take the trouble." "Oh," said he, a little spitefully, "I had promised a ruffian." "You had," she said. "Do you find people always carry out their promises? I don't." "I sometimes wish they wouldn't," he retorted. "But this Miss Lascelles--what has attracted you so much towards her?" "No one could help it," she said. "I should like you to meet her, and then you would understand what I mean." "Evidently she would be dangerous," he said, shaking his head. "I daren't risk it. Has she a father, or any one belonging to her?" "Of course she has a father," she replied, "Women don't hold military appointments yet. A very nice, particular father--Oh, here is Bell!" She hurried across the room. Everitt remaining behind with very unenviable feelings. It seemed a particularly bad piece of luck that Miss Aitcheson and her father should appear at this party; for already he was not free from the suspicion that she had recognised him. There was nothing for it but to brazen it out. He strolled across the room towards her; but at this moment dinner was announced, and his course was diverted. At dinner they were on the same side, out of sight of each other; then he began to reflect that with a large party in a double drawing-room a little management might prevent any actual contact. When the ladies had gone. Colonel Aitcheson came over to speak to Marchmont, who was near Everitt. Everitt would have drawn off, but that Marchmont made some remark to him, and Colonel Aitcheson faced round, shoulders and all. "You must excuse me, sir, but your face is extraordinarily familiar to me." Everitt bowed. Marchmont hastened to introduce him. "Perhaps you know the name?" "Not at all, not at all. I've no head for names--forget my own some days; but a face is another sort of thing--never forget a face." He threw his head back and looked frowningly at Everitt. "I could have sworn I'd seen you somewhere lately, eh? Well, it's odd, it's odd. I must ask Bell." "I dare say you're right," Everitt said coolly. "I'm about a good deal."