He thought of suggestions that Lady Belward had often thrown out; of
those many talks with Sir William, excellent friends as they were, in
which the baronet hinted at the security he would feel if there was a
second family of Belwards. What if he--? He smiled strangely, and
shrank.

Marriage? There was the touchstone.

After the dance, when he was taking her to her mother, he saw a pale
intense face looking out to him from a row of others. He smiled, and the
smile that came in return was unlike any he had ever seen Alice Wingfield
wear. He was puzzled. It flashed to him strange pathos, affection, and
entreaty. He took Delia Gasgoyne to her mother, talked to Lady Belward
a little, and then went quietly back to where he had seen Alice. She was
gone. Just then some people from town came to speak to him, and he was
detained. When he was free he searched, but she was nowhere to be found.
He went to Lady Belward. Yes, Miss Wingfield had gone. Lady Belward
looked at Gaston anxiously, and asked him why he was curious. "Because
she's a lonely-looking little maid," he said, "and I wanted to be kind to
her. She didn't seem happy a while ago."

Lady Belward was reassured.

"Yes, she is a sweet creature, Gaston," she said, and added: "You are a
good boy to-night, a very good host indeed. It is worth the doing," she
went on, looking out on the guests proudly. "I did not think I should
ever come to it again with any heart, but I do it for you gladly. Now,
away to your duty," she added, tapping his breast affectionately with her
fan, "and when everything is done, come and take me to my room."