She looked a little annoyed.
"Some people never reach it," she answered; "the majority in fact. I reserve it for my personal friends—and they are few."
"I am glad to hear it," said Mr. Berend. "I hate majorities: to escape from them is something worth striving for. To me a barrier of any sort is delightful; it arouses a corresponding amount of energy; and indolence is my detestation and my failing at the same time."
Lady Anstiss made a little gesture of impatience. This sententious boy was going to be a bore, and to give her the trouble of crushing him. Her programme, dangling from her fan, attracted his attention; he raised it and took the pencil, saying, "May I have the pleasure? Which dance?"
There were still two vacant places on the card; Lady Anstiss did not intend them for a chance-comer.
"I am sorry——" she began; but quite courteously he interrupted her.
"I should have preferred a waltz," he said; "but I am fortunate to find you disengaged at all," and wrote his name down.
Lady Anstiss looked at him critically as he did so.
A young man of middle height, with a graceful figure, and a face that might be called blameless, so inoffensive were the features and colouring. Fair, youthful-looking, with an air of mild freshness about it that seemed peculiarly unsuited to his profession. A partner claimed Lady Anstiss before she had made up her mind precisely how to subdue this apparently unconscious offender.