The little lady flushed.
"It would be a greater marvel still if you men gave us credit for just a little generosity. But, tell me Mr. Shelton, where is Adrien Leroy?"
"My dear lady," said Shelton, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, "if I knew that Lady Merivale would be down on me like the proverbial load of bricks. He was to have been here; but his movements are as uncertain as her ladyship's smiles. See, she has fairly extinguished poor Hadley--drowned in sweetness!"
"You are a horror," laughed his companion as the waltz came to an end. "I shall be quite afraid of you in the future--I'd no idea you were so cynical."
"I could never be cynical with you," he said gallantly. "By the way, have you seen Prince Pfowsky to-night?"
"Yes," said Lady Chetwold, "I am engaged to him for the next dance--if he remembers it. He is always so forgetful."
"'Put not your trust in princes,'" quoted Shelton. "But if his Highness should be so ungrateful, perhaps you will allow me the pleasure----"
"Certainly not," she retorted brightly; "Cæsar or nothing!"
"And here he comes," laughed Mortimer; adding softly, as the Prince came up to claim his partner, "and here is some one even more interesting--look."
Lady Chetwold followed the direction of his gaze and saw Adrien Leroy advancing up the rose-decked room. As usual, his appearance created something like a stir, for he was popular with men and women alike, and no smart gathering seemed quite complete without him. But the young man appeared totally unconscious of the interest he was evoking as he bent over his hostess's hand with a murmured greeting, then turned to make his bow to the Prince, who, as firm an admirer as the rest of Society, had paused to exchange a word before the dance commenced.