Miss Penelope was in the seventh heaven of delight, when some little time later Adrien came up to her.
"What a magnificent sight, is it not, Adrien?" she said excitedly. "I knew it would be a success; but really the dresses are wonderful. Then the mystery is so delightful. I can't recognise any one now under the masks. Look, who is that?" She glanced towards a lady dressed as Undine, who seemed to float by them, so light were her movements, on the arm of a Mephistopheles.
"That," said Adrien, whose quick eyes readily penetrated the majority of the disguises, "that is--yes, I cannot be mistaken--Ev--Lady Merivale."
His voice dropped slightly as he spoke the name; for he had not expected that she would accept Miss Penelope's invitation, and was surprised by her presence.
"Who is the Mephistopheles?" asked his aunt.
Adrien glanced after the couple rather puzzled.
"I don't know," he admitted frankly.
"It is something, a shadow only, like Mr. Vermont," suggested Miss Penelope.
"It cannot be he," said Adrien, "he is not coming to-night."
Lord Barminster, who had approached in time to hear this speech, looked affectionately at his son, and Adrien caught the glance and understood it. But without making any comment, he went in search of his partner for the next waltz.