“Look at him now, talking to the Chance woman as if she were an angel of light.” Norma glanced across the room and smiled contemptuously. “She seems to like it. She's preening herself as if the wings were already grown. Connie,” she called to her hostess, who was passing by, “why have you hidden Mr. Padgate from me all this time?” The butterfly lady laughed. “He is too precious. I can only afford to give my friends a peep at him now and then. I want to keep him all to myself.” She fluttered away. Norma leaned back and hid a yawn with her fan; then, rousing herself with an effort, made conversation with her companion. Presently another man came up and King retired. “How is it getting on?” whispered Mrs. Deering. “Oh, steady,” he replied with his hands in his pockets. “Lucky man!” Morland King shrugged his shoulders. “The only thing against it is papa and mamma--chiefly mamma. A Gorgon of a woman!” “You'll never get a wife to do you more credit than Norma. With that face I wonder she is n't a duchess by now. There _was_ a duke once, but a fair American eagle came and swooped him off under Norma's nose. You see, she's not the sort of girl to give a man much encouragement.” “Oh, I can't stand a woman who throws herself at your head,” said King, emphatically. “What a funny way men have nowadays of confessing to the tender passion!” said Mrs. Deering, laughing. “What would you have a fellow do?” he asked. “Spout blank verse about the stars and things, like a Shakespearean hero?” “It would be prettier, anyhow.” “Well, if you will have it, I'm about as hard hit as a man ever was--there!” “I 'm delighted to hear it,” said his cousin. A short while afterwards the dinner-party broke up. “I don't know whether you care to mix with utter worldlings like us, Mr. Padgate,” said Norma, as she bade him good-bye, “but we are always in on Tuesdays.” “I'll tie him hand and foot and bring him,” said King. “Good-night, old chap. I'm giving Miss Hardacre a lift home in the brougham.” Before Jimmie could say yes or no, they were gone. He found himself the last. “You are certainly not going for another hour, Jimmie,” said Mrs. Deering, as he came forward to take leave. “You will sit in that chair and smoke and tell me all about yourself and make me feel good and pretty.” “Very well,” he assented, laughing. “Turn me out when it's time for me to go.”