"Count me out!" laughed the latter. "Not in my line, don't you know, since I joined the retired list!"
"However, there's Steele," Sir Charles, pipe in hand, remarked.
Ronsdale had stepped to the girl's side; his eyes, regarding her in the least degree too steadily, shone with a warmer gleam. She appeared either not to notice, or to mind; with look unreservedly bright, she smiled back at him; then her gaze met John Steele's.
"Do you use the foils, Mr. Steele?"
He moved forward; Lord Ronsdale stood near her, bending over with a slightly proprietary air.
"I--" Steele looked at them, at the girl's questioning eyes. "Only a little!"
"Then you must try conclusions with Lord Ronsdale!" called out Sir Charles. "As victor over the rest he must meet all comers."
A light swept John Steele's face; perhaps the situation appealed to a certain sense of humor; he hesitated.
"Nothing to be put out by, being beaten by Ronsdale," interposed an observer. "Had the reputation of being one of the best swordsmen on the continent; has even had, I believe," with a laugh, "one or two little affairs of honor."
"Honor!" Steele's glance swung around, played brightly on the nobleman.