“Train was late as usual,” observed Austin.  “Philip and I don’t mean to butt into this very grand function—­Hello, Gerald!  Hello, Gladys! . . .  Where’s our obscure corner below the salt, Nina? . . .  Oh, over there—­”

Selwyn had already caught sight of the table destined for him.  A deeper colour crept across his bronzed face as he stepped forward, and his firm hand closed over the slim hand offered.

For a moment neither spoke; she could not; he dared not.

Then Drina caught his hands, and Eileen’s loosened in his clasp and fell away as the child said distinctly, “I’ll kiss you after dinner; it can’t be done here, can it, Eileen?”

“You little monkey!” exclaimed her father, astonished; “what in the name of cruelty to kids are you doing here?”

“Mother let me,” observed the child, reaching for a bonbon.  “Daisy is here; you didn’t speak to her.”

“I’m past conversation,” said Austin grimly, “and Daisy appears to be also.  Are they to send an ambulance for you, Miss Craig?—­or will you occupy the emergency ward upstairs?”

“Upstairs,” said Miss Craig briefly.  It was all she could utter.  Besides, she was occupied with a pink cream-puff.  Austin and Boots watched her with a dreadful fascination; but she seemed competent to manage it.

Selwyn, beside Eileen, had ventured on the formalities—­his voice unsteady and not yet his own.

Her loveliness had been a memory; he had supposed he realised it to himself; but the superb, fresh beauty of the girl dazed him.  There was a strange new radiancy, a living brightness to her that seemed almost unreal.  Exquisitely unreal her voice, too, and the slightly bent head, crowned with the splendour of her hair; and the slowly raised eyes, two deep blue miracles tinged with the hues of paradise.

“There’s no use,” sighed Drina, “I shall not be able to dance.  Boots, there’s to be a dance, you know; so I’ll sit on the stairs with Daisy Craig; and you’ll come to me occasionally, won’t you?”

Miss Craig yawned frightfully and made a purely mechanical move toward an iced strawberry.  Before she got it Nina gave the rising signal.

“Are you remaining to smoke?” asked Eileen as Selwyn took her to the doorway.  “Because, if you are not—­I’ll wait for you.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Anywhere. . . .  Where shall I?”

Again the twin blue miracles were lifted to his; and deep in them he saw her young soul, waiting.

Around them was the gay confusion, adieux, and laughter of partners parted for the moment; Nina passed them with a smiling nod; Boots conducted Drina to a resting-place on the stairs; outside, the hall was thronged with the younger set, and already their partners were returning to the tables.

“Find me when you can get away,” said Eileen, looking once more at Selwyn; “Nina is signalling me now.”

Again, as of old, her outstretched hand—­the little formality symbolising to him the importance of all that concerned them.  He touched it.