"Very well," she said; "but I think I'm engaged for this next dance, and I must not go far away. I have already broken two or three engagements."
"In that case you can come without hesitation," he said. "It is the first crime that costs a pang, having passed that the downward course is easy and painless."
He led her to a seat, and with the cool determination which Stafford always admired in him, began at once; for he did not wish to give her time to slip on her woman's armour; he intended to strike quickly, unexpectedly, so that she should not be able to conceal the effect of the blow.
"Almost as hot as in Australia," he said, languidly, but watching her out of the tail of his eye. "I suppose you were never there, Miss Heron? Nor have I been; but I've got a letter in my pocket from a very great friend of mine who is roughing it on a cattle-run, and he has so often described the country to me, that I almost feel as if I knew it. By the way, I think you know him. He is my dearest and closest friend— Stafford Orme, as I always call him and think of him; of course I am speaking of Lord Highcliffe."
The problem was solved: he saw her face suddenly flush, and then as suddenly grow pale. So sharp had been the blow, its effect so overwhelming, that her fan fell from her hand. Howard, as he restored it to her, seized the opportunity of looking her full in the face, and assurance was made doubly sure.
This girl did hold his friend Stafford's happiness in her hand.
Ida was silent for a moment, because she knew she could not control her voice, could not keep it steady; then, with a quickened breath, she said:
"Yes, I knew Mr. Orme—Lord Highcliffe."
"Then I hope you liked him," he said, mercilessly; for there was no time for mercy; some idiot of a dancing-man would come and take her from him the next minute. "I express the hope, because I myself like and admire him very much indeed. He is a splendid fellow, and one of those instances of a good man struggling with adversity. Are you fond of poetry, Miss Heron?"
Ida's bosom was heaving, she was fighting for calm. She knew now who it was with whom she was speaking; it was the friend, the cynical Mr. Howard, of whom Stafford had told her; she had not caught his name at the introduction. She regarded him with intense interest, and inclined her head by way of assent.