They stood together at the head of the staircase, a couple curiously unlike not only in appearance but in disposition and tastes.  Lady Grenside was tall and fair, almost florid in complexion, remarkably well-preserved, with a splendid presence and figure.  She had been one of the beauties of her day, and even now, in the sixth year of her widowhood, was accounted a remarkably handsome woman.  Mr. Foley, her brother, was also tall, but gaunt and thin, with a pronounced stoop.  His grey imperial gave him an almost foreign appearance.  He had the forehead of a philosopher but the mouth of a humourist.  His eyes, shrewd and penetrating—­he wore no glasses although he was nearly sixty years of age—­were perhaps his best feature.

“Tell me, my dear Stephen,” she asked, as the tide of incoming guests finally ceased and they found themselves at liberty, “why are you looking so disturbed?  It seems to me that every one has arrived who ought to come, and judging by the noise they are making, every one is thoroughly enjoying themselves.  Why are people so noisy nowadays, I wonder?”

Mr. Foley smiled.

“What an observant person you are!  To tell you the truth, there was just one guest whom I was particularly anxious to see here to-night.  He promised to come, but so far I am afraid that he has not arrived.”

“Not that awful man Maraton?”

He nodded.

“No use calling him names, Catharine,” he continued grimly.  “Maraton is one of the most important problems we have to face within the next few weeks.  I suppose there is no chance of his having slipped in without our having noticed him?”

Lady Grenside shook her head.

“I should imagine not.  I am quite sure that I haven’t shaken hands to-night with any one who reminded me in the least of what this man must be.  Very likely Elisabeth will discover him if he is here.  She has just gone off on one of her tours of inspection.”

Mr. Foley shrugged his shoulders.  He was, after all, a philosopher.

“I am afraid Elisabeth won’t get very far,” he remarked.  “Carton was in her train, and Ellison and Aubrey weren’t far behind.  She is really quite wonderful.  I never in all my life saw any one look so beautiful as she does to-night.”

Lady Grenside made a little grimace as she laid her fingers upon her brother’s arm and pointed towards an empty settee close at hand.

“Beautiful, yes,” she sighed, “but oh, so difficult!”

Almost at that moment, Elisabeth had paused on her way through the furthest of the three crowded rooms—­and Maraton, happening simultaneously to glance in her direction, their eyes met.  They were both above the average height, so they looked at one another over the heads of many people, and in both their faces was something of the same expression—­the faint interest born of a relieved monotony.  The girl deliberately turned towards him.  He was an unknown guest and alone.  There were times when her duties came quite easily.