He bowed and stood gazing at her silently, wondering a little who she could be.
The wandering sibyl stood silent, too, as if lost in thought. Presently she started and spoke like one waking from a dream:
"And yet perhaps I may give you a word of warning."
"Pray do so," he answered carelessly, for his eyes had returned to the graceful form of Bonnibel as she stood leaning against a tall stand of flowers at a little distance from him.
The woman's eyes followed his. She frowned darkly beneath her mask.
"You have gathered many distinguished guests around you to-night, Colonel Carlyle," she said, abruptly.
"None more honored than yourself, madam, be sure, although unknown," he answered, with a courtly bow.
"Pretty words," she answered, with a mocking laugh. "Let me repay them by a friendly warning."
She bent nearer and breathed in a low, sibilant whisper: