thwarted expression in their depths.

Presently Diana spoke again, a tinge of irony in her tones.

"And--after this--when next we meet . . . are you going to cut me again?
. . . It must have been very tiresome for you, that an unkind fate
insisted on your making my closer acquaintance."

He dropped his hand suddenly.

"Oh, forgive me!" he exclaimed, with a quick gesture of deprecation.
"It--it was unpardonable of me . . ." His voice vibrated with some
strong emotion, and Diana regarded him curiously.

"Then you meant it?" she said slowly. "It was deliberate?"

He bent his head affirmatively.

"Yes," he replied. "I suppose you think it unforgivable. And yet--and
yet it would have been better so."

"Better? But why? I'm generally"--dimpling a little--"considered rather
nice."

"'Rather nice'?" he repeated, in a peculiar tone. "Oh, yes--that does
not surprise me."

"And some day," she continued gaily, "although I'm nobody just now, I may
become a really famous person--and then you might be quite happy to know
me!"