“Presently,” he answered, impassively.

Susan followed him for a few steps across the hall, spoke to him in a low tone.

“Too bad to ask you to interrupt her, Mr. Hughes,” said she, in her friendly little way, “but you know Miss Lord’s sister has been having one of her bad times, and of course you understand—?” The blue eyes and the pitiful little smile conquered.  Hughes became human.

“Certainly, Miss,” he said hoarsely, “but Madam is going to the theater to-night, and it’s no time to see her.”

“I know,” Susan interposed, sympathetically.

“However, ye may depend upon my taking the best moment,” Hughes said, before disappearing, and when he came back a few moments later, he was almost gracious.

“Mrs. Lawrence says that if you wish to see her you’ll kindly wait, Miss Lord.  Step in here, will you, please?  Will ye be seated, ladies?  Miss Chrissy’s been asking for you the whole evening, Miss Lord.”

“Is that so?” Lydia asked, brightening.  They waited, with fast-beating hearts, for what seemed a long time.  The great entrance to the flower-filled embrasure that led to the dining-room was in full view from where they stood, and when Mrs. Lawrence, elegantly emacinated, wonderfully gowned and jeweled, suddenly came out into the tempered brilliance of the electric lights both girls went to meet her.

Susan’s heart burned for Lydia, faltering out her explanation, in the hearing of the butler.

“This is hardly the time to discuss this, Miss Lord,” Mrs. Lawrence said impatiently, “but I confess I am surprised that a woman who apparently valued her position in my house should jeopardize it by such an extraordinary indiscretion—­”

Susan’s heart sank.  No hope here!

But at this moment some six or seven young people followed Mrs. Lawrence out of the dining-room and began hurriedly to assume their theater wraps, and Susan, with a leap of her heart, recognized among them Peter Coleman, Peter splendid in evening dress, with a light overcoat over his arm, and a silk hat in his hand.  His face brightened when he saw her, he dropped his coat, and came quickly across the hall, hands outstretched.

“Henrietta! say that you remember your Percy!” he said joyously, and Susan, coloring prettily, said “Oh, hush!” as she gave him her hand.  A rapid fire of questions followed, he was apparently unconscious of, or indifferent to, the curiously watching group.

“Well, you two seem to be great friends,” Mrs. Lawrence said graciously, turning from her conversation with Miss Lord.

“This is our cue to sing ‘For you was once My Wife,’ Susan!” Peter suggested.  Susan did not answer him.  She exchanged an amused, indulgent look with Mrs. Lawrence.  Perhaps the girl’s quiet dignity rather surprised that lady, for she gave her a keen, appraising look before she asked, pleasantly: 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your old friend, Peter?”