A MODERN WITCH.
I.
Never shall I forget my first meeting with Irene Latouche. After travelling all day, I had arrived at my friend Maitland's house to find that dinner had been over for at least an hour. Having taken the precaution of dining during the journey this did not affect me very materially; but my kindly host, who met me in the hall, took it very much to heart.
"We quite gave you up, my dear fellow, we did indeed," he reiterated, grasping my hand with additional fervour each time he made the assertion. "My wife will be so vexed at your missing dinner. You are sure you won't have a bit now? Such a haunch of venison, hung to a turn! One of old Ward's. You know he has taken Glen Bogie this season, and is having rare sport, I am told. Ah, well, if you really won't take anything, we had better join the ladies in the drawing-room."
"But the luggage hasn't come from the station yet," I interposed, "and my dress clothes are in my portmanteau—"
"Nonsense about dress clothes! It will be bed-time soon. You don't suppose anybody cares what you have on, do you?"
With this comforting assurance, Maitland pushed open the drawing-room door, and a flood of light streamed out into the hall. Dazzled by the sudden glare I stepped back, but not before I had caught sight of a most striking figure at the further end of the long room.
"Who on earth is that girl?" I whispered.
"Which? Oh, the one playing the harp, you mean? I might have known that! A rare beauty, isn't she? I thought you would find her out pretty soon!"
Now I am a middle-aged bachelor of quiet tastes, and nothing annoys me more than when my friends poke ponderous fun at me in this fashion. So, ignoring Maitland's facetious suggestion, I calmly walked forward and shook hands with my hostess. She greeted me with her customary cordiality, and in about two minutes I was feeling perfectly at home in spite of my dusty clothes. I now had an opportunity of examining the other guests, who were dispersed in groups about the room. Most of them were people I had frequently met before under the Maitlands' hospitable roof, but the face which had first arrested my attention was that of an absolute stranger.