Unlike the majority of his set, Adrien Leroy was never lonely; indeed, solitude to him was a pleasure, and one—­the only one—­which was difficult to obtain.  Endued with a fine intellect and highly cultivated mind, even at college he had succeeded in studying when his companions had spent their time in “ragging,” and other senseless occupations of a like nature.  Thrown on his own resources, therefore, Leroy could have become a power in almost any of the artistic professions.  Instead, his time, his youth and his faculties were being wasted in the ordinary pursuits of the people amongst whom he lived.  Had he been a poorer man, he might have risen to any height by virtue of his own talents; but, lapped in luxury, lulled by the homage of society, he remained dissatisfied, discontented, and apathetic.

The clock, striking eight, aroused him.  Throwing aside the cigar which had burnt itself out, he rose.  He had promised Jasper to come down to the Casket Theatre; and, however weary he might be of the tinsel and glitter, yet he never thought of making an excuse, or of breaking his word.

He was about to set forth, when Norgate announced “Lord Standon,” and though Adrien’s greeting was as courteous as usual, the old genial warmth was gone.  Lord Standon perceived this, and knew that he had not been mistaken in his belief that he had somehow angered Adrien.

Directly Norgate had closed the door behind him, therefore, he dashed, as was his wont, straight to the heart of things.

“Leroy,” he said abruptly, “what’s wrong with you?”

Adrien stared at him.

“Wrong!” he echoed.  “What on earth do you mean?  What should be wrong?”

“I don’t know,” returned the other bluntly; “but I seem to have rubbed you up the wrong way somehow——­”

“Nonsense,” said Leroy, trying hard to resume his usual warmth of manner.  “What a ridiculous idea!  Have you dined, or shall I ring?” He crossed the room almost hurriedly.

“No, no, thanks,” interrupted Lord Standon.  “I’m just off again; it was only a passing idea.  Sorry to have mentioned it.”

He turned, as if to go; and Leroy made no attempt to restrain him.

“I have to congratulate you, I suppose, on your engagement?” he said coldly, when the young man had almost reached the door.

Lord Standon turned sharply, and stared at him.  He grasped the situation at once, but was still greatly puzzled, for he knew Leroy was but slightly acquainted with Lady Muriel Branton.

“Thanks, old man,” he returned, rather awkwardly.  “But it’s a dead secret, really; I suppose Lady Constance told you?”

Leroy frowned.

“Yes,” he said simply, “Why not?”

“Oh, no reason at all,” said Lord Standon, flushing like a boy; “only it’s got to be kept quiet, you know—­my affairs are in such a beastly state.”

“I wonder you——­” commenced Leroy.

“Dared to ask her,” put in Standon, laughing a little confusedly.  “Yes, it was a bit of cheek on my part, but ‘faint heart never won fair lady,’ you know, and by Jove! if I hadn’t, some other lucky devil might have slipped in and carried her off by sheer force!”