He had not made any great effort to get there earlier. He had felt no particular interest in the dance to which he had been so urgently and unceremoniously bidden. But he deplored his lateness sincerely when, as the music slowed down before finally ceasing, he caught an amazingly unexpected vision of soft white and gold, with cheeks flushed like a wild rose, and with wide blue eyes opened to their fullest as they encountered his eager gaze. Prudence's eyes looked into his; and the lights and the music and the crowd melted magically away. She was back in the past, with the scent of _gloire de Dijon_ roses filling the air, and one voice only breaking across immeasurable distance, and falling on her ears like a note, lost and now recalled, the dear familiar sound of a voice to which her heart responded and which flooded the universe with the music of the spring. Whether Prudence broke away from her legitimate partner, or whether it was Steele who effected the change, she never afterwards remembered. She was conscious at the moment only of the eager welcome in his eyes, the surprised satisfaction of his voice speaking her name, the glad assurance with which he took her hand and placed it on his arm and steered her with dexterous swiftness through the crowd about the doorway, leaving Mr Morgan staring after them in stupefied amazement, and her late partner frowning with annoyance at the slight which bereft him of the most sought after partner of the evening. It all happened so quickly. Before she had recovered fully from the first surprise of the encounter, she found herself alone with Steele in a little room off the hall, that was all in confusion with an overflow of furniture from the rooms which had been cleared. He drew her inside and closed the door and stood looking down at her with a laugh in his grey eyes. CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. "What luck!" he ejaculated. "Whoever would have thought of finding you here? This saves me a journey." "I thought you were abroad," she said, her face irradiating happiness. "It's just a dream, I can't believe you are real." He stooped over her, and laid his hands on her shoulders and held her, looking into her upturned face. "I thought myself at first _you_ were a dream," he said--"a vision which the longing in my heart had conjured up. And then your voice--the touch of your hand..." He bent lower and kissed her lips. "That is no dream," he murmured, and drew back, smiling at her. "How good it is to be with you again! All the way home on the ship I've had you in my thoughts. For that matter, I've had you in my thoughts right along ever since I went away. I came home, I think, just to see you." "I thought you had forgotten," she said, and turned aside her face to hide the regret in her eyes. "I waited to hear from you. I waited, and waited. And then--I thought surely you must have forgotten."