She stood, calm and statuesque, but with her eyes downcast for a
moment, then she raised them and looked at him. "About this cotillon,"
she said; then she broke off: "Do you know what is going to happen
to-night? It is a secret, but--but I feel as if I must tell you, though
I am betraying Sir Stephen's confidence. He tells me everything--more
than he tells even Stafford. Strange as it may seem, he--he is fond of
me."

"That does not seem strange to me," said Howard, with a little bow.

She made a slight gesture of impatience.

"It seems strange to me," she said, with a touch of bitterness. "So few
persons are fond of me."

Howard smiled.

"For once I must be guilty of contradicting a lady," he said. "When I
reflect that to-night I shall form one of a band of devoted courtiers
who will throng round you in the hopeless pangs of despair--"

She repeated the gesture of impatience.

"Have you seen Stafford to-day?" she asked, looking down.

"I saw him a few hours ago," he replied, "at his rooms."

"At his rooms," she repeated, with a slight frown and a quick glance at
him. "He promised to come to Richmond. Why did he not do so? Is
he--ill?"

"Ill?" said Howard, raising his brows and smiling, for he knew the
meaning of loyalty to a friend. "I never saw him in better spirits in
my life, he was quite hilarious."