But that last visit, that delicious last visit, she had thoroughly enjoyed. Guy Rossett had taken her into dinner, and danced attendance on her for the best part of a delightful week. At last she had met a man who seemed to stand a head and shoulders above his fellows. But for a little time much sadness was mingled with her joy. On more than one night, when Guy's glance had thrilled her, when Guy's gentle pressure of the hand, as he bade her good night, had set her heart fluttering, she had cried herself to sleep. She had heard all about him from her hostess, a kind-hearted, gossiping soul. He was the second son of a wealthy peer of ancient lineage. With his father's influence, he would be sure to obtain eminence in the diplomatic field. And he would inherit a big fortune from his grand-aunt, the Lady Henrietta. Poor Isobel felt a very lonely maiden as she listened to this splendid recital. As a mere man, with his good looks and charm, he could choose where he liked. With these advantages in addition, he could pick from the noblest in the land. Of course, she was a little fool, and the sooner she said good-bye to her vain dreams the better. Guy Rossett was attracted by her for the moment, no doubt. But it was impossible a man in his position, with his prospects, could mean anything serious. Could a man, in whose veins ran the blood of a dozen earls, choose for his wife the descendant of paltry squires? And then had come that wonderful day, a day in her life ever to be marked with a white stone, when Guy had overtaken her as she was indulging in a solitary ramble in the now leafless park. In impassioned words he had told her how he loved her, how she was the one woman in the world he wanted for his wife. He loved her. Did she care for him? Dazed, and overjoyed with her happiness, her lovely dark eyes half suffused with tears, she faltered forth a trembling yes. He took her in his arms, and gave her her first lover's kiss. Then, when her brain had ceased to whirl, when she could recover from the great shock of her newly-found joy, she began to think. "But it is all a dream," she murmured. "It is impossible." "Impossible!" repeated Guy. "Why do you use the word?" "But, of course, you can see. You are the son of an aristocrat, big even amongst aristocrats. I am a nobody. Lady Glanville tells me you are going to be an ambassador, or something dreadfully big and awe-inspiring." Guy laughed genially. "Oh, you sweet little soul. Has that dear old woman been filling you with all that sort of stuff? Haven't brains enough, my darling. And, if it should turn out true, and I do become an ambassador, you will grow up with me, and you'll find the part of ambassador's wife fit you like a glove." But, presently, after the first rhapsodies had passed, they began to talk soberly.