At that moment Lady Wyndward came toward them, and murmured something to him, and he left them and offered his arm to a lady at the other end of the room; then Lady Wyndward waved her fan slightly and smiled, and a tall, thin, fair-haired man came up.
"Lord Charles, will you take charge of Miss Etheridge?"
Lord Guildford bowed and offered his arm.
"I shall be delighted," he said, and he smiled down at Stella in his frank way.
There was a general movement, ladies and gentlemen were pairing off and moving toward the door, beside which stood the two footmen, with the solemn air of soldiers attending an execution.
"Seven minutes late," said Lord Charles, glancing up at the clock as they passed. "We must chalk that up to Lady Lenore. I admire and envy her courage, don't you, Miss Etheridge? I should no more dare to be late for dinner at Wyndward than—than—what's the most audacious thing you can think of?"
Stella smiled; there was something catching in the light-hearted, frank, and free tones of the young viscount.
"Standing on a sofa in muddy boots has always been my idea of a great social crime," she said.
He laughed approvingly, and his laugh seemed to float lightly through the quiet room.
"That's good—that's awfully good!" he said, with intense enjoyment. "Standing on a sofa—that's awfully good! Must tell Leycester that! Did you ever do it, by the way?"