"No, no. And yet—oh, I'd better tell you at once. My dear Lady Auchester, the Marlows have got Lady Eleanor Dallas staying with them—and she's coming here to-night!"
Leslie blushed, but she said quietly, "Well?"
"Well!" echoed the hostess in a kind of despair. "Don't you see, dear? She doesn't know you are here, and—and—oh, what shall I do?"
"Do nothing," replied Leslie, as quietly as before.
"But—but will it not be awkward and unpleasant for you, dear Lady Auchester?"
"Yes," said Leslie, in her old, downright way. "Yes; it will be both awkward and unpleasant, but if we ran away from all the awkwardness and unpleasantness in life we should spend our time in perpetual flight. I see you know our story, Lady Springmore."
"Oh, every one does, my dear," murmured that lady apologetically.
"Just so," said Leslie calmly. "Well, if you are kind enough to ask my advice, it is: Do nothing. The world is so small that Lady Dallas and we are sure to meet sometimes, and—well," she smiled, "do you think that we shall make a scene in your pretty ballroom? Wait!"
She opened the door of the dressing-room an inch or two and called to Yorke.