Lord Selbie?--Lord Selbie? Nell worried her memory in vain. She had read
extracts from the Fashion Gazette so often, the aristocratic names had
passed out of her mind almost before she had pronounced them, and it was
not surprising that she should fail to recall this Lord Selbie's.

She had not much time or opportunity for reflection, for the other
guests were arriving, and the party was almost complete. As she stood a
little apart, she noticed the dresses, and smiled as she felt how
incapable she would be of describing their magnificence to mamma. It was
her first big dinner party, and she was amused and interested in
watching the brilliant groups, and in listening to the small talk.

Lady Wolfer's clear voice could be heard distinctly; but though she
talked and laughed with apparent ease and freedom, Nell fancied that her
ladyship was not quite at her ease, that there was something forced in
her gayety, and that her laugh now and again rang false. Nell saw, too,
that Lady Wolfer's glance wandered from time to time to the door, as if
she were waiting for some one.

The earl came up to Nell.

"Are we all here? It is late," he said, in his grave way, and glancing
at the clock.

Nell looked around and counted.

"One more," she said, in as low a tone. As she spoke, the door opened,
and Sir Archie Walbrooke entered.