They had been pacing up and down the terrace while they talked, and now one by one the dark windows were uncurtained by an invisible hand, and panes of light fell regularly at equal intervals upon the grass.  They stopped to look in at the drawing-room, and perceived Mr. Pepper writing alone at a table.

“There’s Pepper writing to his aunt,” said Hewet.  “She must be a very remarkable old lady, eighty-five he tells me, and he takes her for walking tours in the New Forest. . . .  Pepper!” he cried, rapping on the window.  “Go and do your duty.  Miss Allan expects you.”

When they came to the windows of the ballroom, the swing of the dancers and the lilt of the music was irresistible.

“Shall we?” said Hewet, and they clasped hands and swept off magnificently into the great swirling pool.  Although this was only the second time they had met, the first time they had seen a man and woman kissing each other, and the second time Mr. Hewet had found that a young woman angry is very like a child.  So that when they joined hands in the dance they felt more at their ease than is usual.

It was midnight and the dance was now at its height.  Servants were peeping in at the windows; the garden was sprinkled with the white shapes of couples sitting out.  Mrs. Thornbury and Mrs. Elliot sat side by side under a palm tree, holding fans, handkerchiefs, and brooches deposited in their laps by flushed maidens.  Occasionally they exchanged comments.

“Miss Warrington does look happy,” said Mrs. Elliot; they both smiled; they both sighed.

“He has a great deal of character,” said Mrs. Thornbury, alluding to Arthur.

“And character is what one wants,” said Mrs. Elliot.  “Now that young man is clever enough,” she added, nodding at Hirst, who came past with Miss Allan on his arm.

“He does not look strong,” said Mrs. Thornbury.  “His complexion is not good.—­Shall I tear it off?” she asked, for Rachel had stopped, conscious of a long strip trailing behind her.

“I hope you are enjoying yourselves?” Hewet asked the ladies.

“This is a very familiar position for me!” smiled Mrs. Thornbury.  “I have brought out five daughters—­and they all loved dancing!  You love it too, Miss Vinrace?” she asked, looking at Rachel with maternal eyes.  “I know I did when I was your age.  How I used to beg my mother to let me stay—­and now I sympathise with the poor mothers—­but I sympathise with the daughters too!”

She smiled sympathetically, and at the same time rather keenly, at Rachel.

“They seem to find a great deal to say to each other,” said Mrs. Elliot, looking significantly at the backs of the couple as they turned away.  “Did you notice at the picnic?  He was the only person who could make her utter.”

“Her father is a very interesting man,” said Mrs. Thornbury.  “He has one of the largest shipping businesses in Hull.  He made a very able reply, you remember, to Mr. Asquith at the last election.  It is so interesting to find that a man of his experience is a strong Protectionist.”