The notes of a song reached Wentworth as he went towards the drawing-room. Lady Violet was singing. Her voice was rich and low. He stood outside the half-open door to listen.
He did not know that he was visible to any one inside the room, but a man sitting near the door became suddenly aware of his presence and got up before the song was ended. Wentworth in the act of stepping back to let him pass stopped short abruptly. It was Percival Field.
They faced each other for a second or two in silence. Then Field's hand came quietly forth and grasped the other man's shoulder, turning him about.
"I should like a word with you," he said.
They descended the stairs together, Burleigh Wentworth leading the way.
Down in the vestibule they faced each other again. There was antagonism in the atmosphere though it was not visible upon either man's countenance, and each ignored it as it were instinctively.
"Hullo!" said Wentworth, and offered his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you here."
Field took the hand after a scarcely perceptible pause. His smile was openly cynical.
"Very kind of you," he said. "I am somewhat out of my element, I admit. We are celebrating our engagement."
He looked full at Wentworth as he said it with that direct, unflickering gaze of his.