The Belgian, very red in the face, and inwardly qwaking, stayed just enough for Colonel Audley to challenge him to a duel if he wished to, but when he found that the Colonel was really paying no attention to him, he discreetly withdrew, thanking his gods that the English were a phlegmatic race.

The Colonel took both Barbara's hands in his. Mischief gleamed in her eyes. She said: "Would you like to finish Rene's work, dear Charles?"

"No, not at all," he answered, drawing her closer.

She held up her face. "Very well! Oh, but I am glad to see you again!"

They sat down together on a small sofa. "You did not appear to be missing me very much!" said the Colonel.

"Don't be stupid! Tell me what you have been doing!"

"There's nothing to tell. What have you been doing? Or daren't you tell me?"

"That's impertinent. I have been forgetting Charles in a whirl of gaiety."

"Faithless one!"

"I have been to the Races, and was quite out of luck; I went to the Opera, but it was Gluck and detestable; I have danced endless waltzes and cotillions, but no one could dance as well as you; and I went to a macao party, and was dipped; to Enghien, and was kissed -"

"What?"

He had been listening with a smile in his eyes, but this vanished, and he interrupted with enough sharpness in his voice to arrest her attention and make her put up her chin a little.

"Well?"

"Did you mean that?"

"What, that I was kissed at Enghien? My dear Charles!"

"It's no answer to say 'My dear Charles', Bab."

"But can you doubt it? Don't you think I am very kissable?"

"I do, but I prefer that others should not."

"Oh no! how dull that would be!" she said, sparkling with laughter.

"Don't you agree that there is something a trifle vulgar in permitting Tom, Dick, and Harry to kiss you?"

"That's to say I'm vulgar, Charles. Am I, do you think?"

"The wonder is that you are not."

"The wonder?"

"Yes, since you do vulgar things."

She flushed, and looking directly into his eyes, said: "You are not wise to talk like that to me, my friend."

"My dear, did you suppose I should be so complaisant as to allow other men to kiss you? What an odd notion you must have of me!"

"I warned you I should flirt."

"And I warned you it would only be with me. To be plain with you, I expect you not to kiss any but myself."

"Tom, Dick, and Harry!" she flashed, betraying a wound.

"Yes or, for instance, the Comte de Lavisse."

There was an edge to the words; she glanced swiftly at him, understanding all at once that he was actuated as much by jealousy as by prudery. The anger left her face; she exclaimed: "Charles! Dear fool! You're quite rightt: it wasn't Etienne!"

He said ruefully: "Wasn't it? Yes, I did think so."

"And were longing to call him out!"

"Nothing so romantic. Merely to plant him a facer."

She was amused. "What the devil's that?"

"Boxing cant. Forget it! If you were to add that to your vocabulary it would be beyond everything!"

"Oh, but I know a deal of boxing cant! My brother George is much addicted to the Fancy , he himself displays to advantage, so I'm told! No shifting, not at all shy; in fact rattles in full of gaiety!"

"Bab, you incorrigible hussy!"

Their disagreement was forgotten; she began to talk to him of George, who was already on his passage to the Netherlands.

It was evident that George, a year older than his sister, was very near her heart. Colonel Audley was barely acquainted with him, but no one who had once met Lord George could fail to recognise him again. When he arrived in Brussels some days later it was from Liedekerke, in the vicinity of Ninove, where he was quartered. He rode into Brussels with the intention of surprising his family at dinner, but happening to encounter a friend on his way up the Montagne de la Cour, went off instead to join a riotous party at the Hotel d'Angleterre. When he presented himself in the Rue Ducale some hours later it was to learn from the butler that Lord and Lady Vidal were at the Opera, and his sister at a soiree.

"Well, I won't go to the Opera, that's certain," said his lordship. "What's this soiree you talk of?"

"I understand, my lord, a gathering of polite persons, with a little music, a -"

"Sounds devilish," remarked his lordship. "Who's holding it?"

"Lord and Lady Worth, my lord."

"Lady Worth, eh?" His lordship pricked up his ears.

"Oh! Ah! I'll go there. Won't throw me out, will they?"

The butler looked horrified. "Throw you out, my lord?"

"Haven't been invited: don't know the Worths,' explained George. "I'll risk it. Where do they live?"

Judith's salons were crowded when he arrived, and since the evening was too far advanced for her to expect any more guests, she had left her station by the door and was standing at the other end of the long room, Balking to two Belgian ladies. The footman's voice, announcing Lord George, was not audible above the clatter of conversation, and Judith remained unaware of his entrance until Madame van der Capellan directed her attention towards him, desiring to know who ce beau geant might be.

She turned her head, and saw his lordship standing on the threshold, looking round him with an air of perfect sangfroid. A handsome giant was a description which exactly hit him off. He stood over six foot, in all the magnificence of a Life Guardsman's dress uniform. He was a blaze of scarlet and gold; a very dark young man with curling black hair, and dashing whiskers, gleaming white teeth, and a pair of bold, fiery eyes.

"It is Lord George Alastair," said Judith. She moved towards him, by no means pleased at the advent of this uninvited guest.

He came at once to meet her. His bow was perfection: the look that went with it was that of a schoolboy detected in crime. "Lady Worth?"

"Yes," she acknowledged. "You - !"

"I know! I know! You're not acquainted with me - don't know me from Adam - wonder how the deuce I got in!"

She was obliged to smile. "Indeed, I do know you. You are Lord George Alastair."

"Oh, come now, that's famous! I daresay you won't have me thrown out after all."

"I am sure it would be a very difficult task," she said. "You have come in search of your sister, I expect? She is here, and your brother too. I think they must both be in the farther salon. Shall we go and find them?"

"Devilish good of you, Lady Worth. But don't put yourself out on my account: I'll find 'em."

She saw that he was looking beyond her, at someone at the other end of the room. She glanced in the same direction, and discovered that the object of his gaze was none other than Miss Devenish. It was plain that Lucy was aware of being stared at; she was blushing uncomfortably, and had cast down her eyes.

"I will show you the way to your sister," said Judith firmly.

"Thank you - in a moment!" said his lordship, with cool impudence. "I have seen a lady I know. Must pay my respects!"

He left her side as he spoke, and bore ruthlessly down upon Miss Devenish. She was seated on a sofa, and cast such a scared look up at George that Judith felt impelled to go to her rescue. George was towering over her - enough to frighten any girl! thought Judith indignantly - and Lucy had half risen from the sofa, and then sunk back again.

By the time Judith, delayed by Mr Creevey in the middle of the room, reached her, George had not only shaken hands, but had seated himself beside her. His eyes were fixed on her downcast face with an ardent expression Judith much disliked, and a teasing smile, as impish as his sister's, curled his lips. When Judith came up he rose. "I am recalling myself to Miss Devenish's memory," he said. "It's my belief she had forgotten me."

"I was not aware that you were acquainted with Lord George, my dear?" Judith said, a question in her voice.

"Oh!" faltered Lucy. "We met once - at a ball!"

"If that is all, it is no wonder that you were forgotten, Lord George!" Judith said.

"All! No such thing! Miss Devenish, can you look me in the face and say we met only once, at a ball?"

She did look him in the face, but with such an expression of reproach in her eyes as must have abashed any but an Alastair. She replied in a low voice, and with a good deal of dignity: "It is true that we have several times met: I do not forget it."

She got up as she spoke, and with a slight inclination of her head moved away to where her aunt was seated.Lord George looked after her for a moment, and then turned to his hostess, saying briskly: "Where's Bab? Inanother salon? I'll go and find her. Now, don't bother your head about me, Lady Worth, I beg! I shall do very well."

She was perfectly willing to let him go, and with a nod and a smile he was off, making his way across the crowded room through the double doors leading into the farther salon. These had been thrown open, and as he approached them George saw his brother Harry standing between them in conversation with Lord Hay. He waved casually, but Harry, as soon as he caught sight of him, left Hay and surged forward.

"Hallo, George! When did you arrive? Where are you quartered? I am devilish glad to see you!"

George answered these questions rather in a manner of a man receiving a welcome of a boisterous puppy; twitted Harry on the glory of his brand-new regimentals; and demanded: "Where's Bab?"

"Oh, with Audley somewhere, I daresay! But what a hand you are, not to have written to tell us you were coming!"

"Who's Audley?" interrupted George, looking over the heads of several people in an attempt to see his sister.

"Why, Worth's brother, to be sure! Lord, don't you know? Bab's going to marry him - or so she says."

This piece of intelligence seemed to amuse George. "Poor devil! No, I didn't know. New, is it?"

"Oh, they've been engaged for a fortnight or more! Look, there they both are!"

A moment later Barbara was startled by an arm being put familiarly round her waist. "Hallo, Bab, my girl!" said his lordship.

She turned quickly in his embrace, an exclamation on her lips. "George! You wretch, to creep up behind me like that!"

He kissed her cheek, and continued to hold her round the waist. "What's all this I hear about your engagement?" He glanced at Colonel Audley, and held out his free hand. "You're Audley, aren't you? How d'ye do? Think we've met before, but can't recall where. What the devil do you mean by getting engaged to my sister? You'll regret it, you know!"

"But you must see that I can't, in honour, draw back now," returned the Colonel, shaking hands. "When did you arrive? At Liedekerke, aren't you? We're deuced glad to see you fellows, I can tell. How strong are you?"

"Two squadrons. What are these Dutchmen like,hey? Saw some of them on our way up from Ostend. They're not so badly mounted, but they can't ride."

"That's the trouble," admitted the Colonel. "A great many of them are shocking bad riders.You know we are not getting Combermere to command the cavalry after all. The Horse Guards are sending Lord Uxbridge out to us."

"Oh, he's a good fellow! You'll like him. But you've served under him, of course. You were with Moore, weren't you? I say, Audley, you Peninsular fellows have the advantage of us - and by Jove, don't you mean to let us know it! A damned rifleman I met tonight called my lot Hyde Park soldiers!"

"So you knocked him down, and poor Vidal will be faced with another scandal!" remarked Barbara.

"No, I didn't. Fellow was my host. But when it comes to fighting we'll show you what Hyde Park soldiers can do!"

Barbara, who was tired of a purely military conversation, changed the subject by asking him how her grandfather did. He confessed that he had not seen that irascible gentleman quite lately, but thought - from the energetic tone of his correspondence - that he was enjoying his customary vigorous health.

"In debt again?" asked Barbara. "Would he not come to the rescue?"

"Oh lord, no! Wrote that he'd see me to the devil first!" replied George. "But I daresay if I come out of this little war alive he'll pay up."

"Return of a hero?" enquired the Colonel. "You'd better get wounded."

"Devilish good notion," agreed his lordship. "Of course if I'm killed it won't matter to me how many debts I've got. Either way I'm bound to win. What are the Prussians like, Audley?"