three days had elapsed since the interview between katharine guyon and gordon frere, which had gone so far towards deciding the destiny of both, when that haughty young lady learned, with some astonishment and more disdain, that her father had it in contemplation to invite mr. streightley, the "tradesman" on whom she had called "in the city," to one of his quiet and limited, but very recherché dinners. she heard the announcement with such surprise that her father actually took the trouble of observing the expression of her face, and laughed quite spontaneously at it.

"that person, papa?" asked katharine.

"yes, my dear, 'that person,' as you call him, with the pretty insolence which is more becoming than reasonable. and more than that, kate, you must make yourself agreeable to that person, and we must have pleasant people to meet him, for he has done me a great service, and is likely to do me several good turns, and to be a very useful acquaintance."

"but, papa," pursued katharine, who was accustomed to hold her ground in words, as well as to have her way in actions, "he is not in our set, or in any set, i should think. a city person, a tradesman! i really cannot see----"

"i daresay not, kate," said her father, with a perceptible knitting of the delicately-traced eyebrows over the fine eyes, which indicated that this exquisite gentleman was not precisely the soul of patience and good temper. "i daresay not, but i can; and that is the chief matter just now. i daresay mr. streightley is not in any 'set,' as you say; but when you talk of him as a 'tradesman' you make a very silly and an ignorant mistake. yes you do," he continued, in reply to an indignant look from his daughter, "though you are very clever, katie,--almost as clever as you are handsome, my dear. mr. streightley is a very rich and a very influential man, and no more a tradesman than i am."

"well then, papa," asked katharine, "what did he mean by sending in a bill in that extraordinary way? if he is not a tradesman, what dealings with him had you, and what services has he done you?"

mr. guyon smiled. his daughter's na?veté amused him. "never mind, kate," he said. "men have money transactions outside their household bills, my dear, or even their tailors and bootmakers; but women do not need to understand these things, and i should only bore you if i explained them. mr. streightley's 'bill' was a very different thing to what you imagine, and his position is, i assure you, a most respectable one. take my word for that, kate, and don't trouble your pretty little head about the matter. i hope we shall see a good deal of mr. streightley, and i wish this dinner-party to be a success; so make out your list, and see watkins about it at once."

"do you wish any people in particular to be asked to meet this new friend, papa?" asked katharine, in a tone which was a little sullen, and just the least in the world impertinent, "or shall i take them, as usual, from the visiting-book?"

mr. guyon ignored the tone of his daughter's question, but replied to its matter by saying: "no, no one in particular; either lady henmarsh or mrs. stanbourne, of course; but you need not have any girls. i fancy streightley knows very few people; they'll all be new to him."

"bar, bench, or bishop, like mrs. merdle,--eh, papa?" said katharine, as she rose from the breakfast-table, at which this dialogue had taken place. "very well, i'll let you see my list when it's done. and now, the day?"

this point was fixed, after a little discussion; and then katharine went to talk with her housekeeper, mrs. watkins, to write her notes, to dawdle over her flowers, until the horses came round; and she started for the park with the reasonable expectation of seeing gordon frere--an expectation which was fulfilled before she had been five minutes in the row.

during the days which intervened before that named for the dinner-party, katharine never gave a passing thought to the subject of her father's strange and incongruous guest; but when the day came, she felt rather ill-humoured about the whole thing.

"what on earth can papa want with him?" she thought, impatiently; "and i am to make myself agreeable to him! well, that generally comes easy to me; but not in this case. i can't even talk to him about the city, which i really should like, because that would be talking shop, though he's not a tradesman. however, it will soon be over," she thought, brightening up, and with an exquisite smile of happy anticipation lighting up her face, moody till then; "and the ball can't fail to be delightful."

miss guyon was going to a ball in the evening, after her dinner-party at home; and her toilet was made with a view to that festivity. an ornament or two, and a magical touch added to her head-dress, were all she would require for the perfect brilliancy of her appearance, in addition to the white dress, arrayed in which she appeared to the enchanted gaze of robert streightley, when he was ushered into her drawing-room, like a vision from another world. and it was quite true that he had never seen so beautiful, so graceful, so elegant a woman as the girl-hostess, who played her part with perfect self-possession, while he felt miserably embarrassed in his.

katharine was seated on an ottoman, placed between the long narrow windows of the front drawing-room, talking to an elderly lady, whom robert streightley's quick eye recognised, as he advanced from the door. mr. guyon left the group with whom he was talking, on the announcement of robert's name; and went forward to meet him with a decided empressement of manner which had its effect on the other guests assembled. he led robert up to katharine, and presented him to her. she bent her graceful head, said a gracious word or two, and resumed her conversation with the lady--whom robert had recognised, and who was lady henmarsh--with well-bred imperturbability. did she remember him? robert thought. had she ever thought of him since that day which had meant to him so much, but to her so little? so little! nothing! and yet not nothing, if she had only known it, for he had discovered things about her father since. robert found himself thinking these rambling thoughts, and gazing helplessly at katharine, unheeding the smooth flow of mr. guyon's talk, as that gentleman, in his very best and airiest manner, addressed himself to the entertainment of his new and useful guest, and to the task of putting him at his ease in this strange sphere. with a sudden consciousness of his absence of mind came self-command to robert, and before long he began to examine the other guests with much more of attention and curiosity than they were at all likely to bestow on him. to the dozen persons assembled in mr. guyon's drawing-room robert streightley was merely a stranger,--well-dressed, well-looking, and though deficient in the air of fashion, which more or less marked themselves, a gentleman in whom there was nothing to provoke any adverse or sneering criticism. to robert they were all interesting. these were katharine's friends,--the people she lived amongst, the people who could influence her by their tastes and opinions, the people whose manners, and dress, and conversation she liked. in every man in the room robert saw a possible rival, in every woman a possible enemy. he was very foolish, not only in the ordinary sense in which every man who is in love is foolish, but in an extraordinary sense,--the result of his peculiar position, and the isolation of his life. he was possessed by his one idea; and he allowed it to become a centre round which every thing revolved. when the announcement of dinner told him that the party was complete, and relieved him from the apprehension of seeing gordon frere's handsome face amongst the number, he actually sighed audibly with the sense of relief. he listened eagerly, as mr. guyon or katharine addressed their guests, and learned with absurd satisfaction that three of the six gentlemen who composed the male portion of the company were married to three of the six ladies who composed the female portion.

robert streightley was a very clever man, but there was a dangerously weak side to his intellect, all the more perilous that he had never suspected it, and did not suspect it now; and that weak side was about to be stormed by a strong passion, all the more ungovernable because it attacked him for the first time. he had never played with this dangerous enemy; he had not known any of the feints, the mock-surprises of love, and he was hopelessly at its mercy. mingled happiness and misery,--the happiness of this delicious, unexpected excess to katharine's presence, the misery of his uncertainty as to her relations with others, with one terrible other in particular--the sense of his strangeness in the scene familiar to her,--ravaged and divided his heart between them. for a time the misery was predominant; and then robert, an impressionable man, and one in whom social tastes were not non-existent, only dormant, yielded to the charm of the present, and gave himself up to admiration of katharine, who never showed to greater advantage than on such occasions. the aplomb of her manner, the brilliancy of her conversation, the taste, elegance, and fashion of her dress, the easy and pleasant grace with which she made the dinner-party "go off" with a success utterly beyond his experience of any festal occasion whatever, were full of a marvellous charm for the man who looked at this girl through the glorified medium of a first and overmastering passion.

robert took little heed of the other guests, except as one or other of them engaged katharine's attention, and so divided his. he had the good fortune to be seated near miss guyon; and but that lady henmarsh directed much of her conversation to the young hostess, and so won streightley's enthusiastic gratitude, she would probably have found her neighbour rather a dull companion. but lady henmarsh was never dull, and never suffered from other people's dulness. in the first place, she dearly liked and thoroughly understood a good dinner; and mr. guyon's dinners were invariably and remarkably good. she made it a practice to eat systematically and steadily through all the courses, and to do justice to all the wines. she was too fashionable and too impervious to other people's opinions to care what any body thought; and so she ate and drank precisely as much as she pleased, and gave her opinion of the comestibles with perfect candour. she was intimate with every one there, except that good-looking new man, who was probably clever in something, but whom nobody knew, and who did not seem to want to talk much or to be talked to; and she therefore joined in all the general conversation, and did not mind him particularly, thereby increasing robert's gratitude. lady henmarsh talked remarkably well. she was naturally quick and intelligent--well-informed too, for a woman of fashion, with, of course, no time for improving her mind; and as she knew every one and had been every where, and probably had a more extensive epistolary correspondence than any other woman in london who did not play at either literature or politics, she was never at a loss for news to communicate or subjects to discuss.

with the exception of mr. guyon, whose like was not quite unknown within the circle of robert's experience, every type there was a novel one to him. few were interesting after a little,--after a cursory examination extending to their personal appearance and the grooves in which their conversation ran. there was a new member, who talked "house" a good deal, and his wife--pretty and well-dressed--who talked "ladies' gallery," who hoped her husband would soon "speak" on the great topic of the day, and who seemed to regard every one not "in the house" as in the "butterfly of fashion" and general inutility line. there was a country gentleman, not at all stupid and not in the least fat; and a country lady, almost as sprightly as miss guyon herself, though by no means so handsome. the country lady and gentleman were also going to mrs. pendarvis's ball; and from their talk about it at dinner robert learned that katharine was going to another entertainment that evening, and the tortures of his infatuated state recommenced. she would disappear, then, after dinner, and he should see no more of her, thought robert in his innocent ignorance of fashionable hours; and she would go and glitter among a crowd of happy people, and that handsome fellow with the light hair would be one of them. and so robert once more stretched himself upon the rack, and gave himself an excruciating twist. he was miserable from the time the ball was mentioned. did he wish that he could go there too? hardly; he felt he would be too much out of place in such a scene; and where could he be more hopelessly parted from her? no, he did not wish to be going to mrs. pendarvis's house; he only wished she were not going.

"have you a card, mr. mostyn?" he heard katharine say in a charming accent of interest to a gentleman seated near her, whom robert had already regarded with some surprise and amusement.

"yes," returned mr. mostyn in a supremely languid tone, at the same time permitting his eyes to raise themselves towards katharine, as if in slow acknowledgment of the complimentary accent. "i think i shall look in for an hour very late. will you give me a dance, miss guyon?" he said this as if he felt bound to make a concession to a wish of hers. robert streightley had very quick eyes, and he saw her steal a glance of sly, mischievous amusement at lady henmarsh as she replied,

"i don't see how i can, mr. mostyn, if you only look in for an hour very late, for i mean to do my looking in rather early."

"very sorry, i'm sure," said mr. mostyn in a slow, measured, would-be modulated tone, which sounded to robert's ears like the very voice of fatuity. "but one has so much to do of an evening just now. it's lady ismaeli's night, and i promised to look in and----"

"of course, of course," said miss guyon, and her eyes danced with mischievous glee; "who would for the world interfere with mr. mostyn's gaieties? we all know they are but gravities in disguise. he is the slave of the season only to be its satirist, the pet of society to requite its indulgence by his teachings as a philosopher and his dulcet lays as a poet. who would lay a tax on time spent in the service of society like mr. mostyn's, studying character in a cotillion, piercing the thin disguises of intrigue at a picnic, and reading the female soul in the evening lounge on a balcony? ah, mr. mostyn, what triflers are we all beside you, the poètephilosophe, not only sous les toits, but of our dinner- and toilet-tables!"

lady henmarsh was listening, pleasure in her face. there was something under this lively talk, this seeming compliment; and robert would have liked well to know what it was. it was something that amused katharine, therefore interesting to him.

"come, mr. mostyn," she went on, "you might tell me--i am a friend, you know. when is the new novel coming out? and what and who is it to be about? only intimate friends this time, or have outsiders any chance?"

she paused for a reply, and an expression of candid curiosity was all her face betrayed. mr. mostyn did not look perfectly comfortable; a dawning doubt showed itself in his smooth features. it was only momentary, though. it cleared away, and he replied,

"really, miss guyon, you embarrass me. i was not prepared to find you so much interested in my humble performances. i shall not publish again, for some little time. i regard the writing of a poem or a novel as a serious undertaking, and i undertake it in a serious spirit. i wait for the inspiration, miss guyon; i wait until a favourable moment when my mind is attuned----"

"and when you have got some very good models, mr. mostyn; isn't that so? your acquaintance is so large, it must be quite delightful and not at all difficult. don't be shocked, please, by my talking of such a little thing as difficulty in the case of such a grand thing as inspiration; but it must be so easy and pleasant just to sit down and put your friends in a book. people hardly expect it, do they? they let you see them as they are, and then that is charming; for you find out all about them, and they never suspect it; and all their circle recognise the portrait, and every one talks about it. i have quite a woman's curiosity about writers, you must know, mr. mostyn,--i quite admire and envy them,--and i should like to know all about them; and i have heard that even a totally worthless book will be read if it is very personal indeed. what a comfort that must be, mr. mostyn i--of course i mean to the persons who write worthless books; shouldn't you think so?"

katharine threw a perfect tone of interrogation into her voice, and deliberately awaited an answer. once more a shadow of doubt came over mr. mostyn's face, and once more a beam from the never-setting sun of his vanity dispelled it.

"i cannot imagine there being any consolation in or for writing a worthless book, miss guyon," replied mr. mostyn with even increased sententiousness. "for my part, i could only be satisfied with doing the very best----"

"the very best, or your very best?" said katharine with undisguised sauciness. then recollecting herself, she dropped her voice to the serious tone again, and went on: "of course no one is easily satisfied with his own work; but you really must not be too modest, mr. mostyn,--you mustn't indeed. every one says your portraits are wonderful; and what can be more interesting than to depict accurately persons who are very widely known, and place them in the most trying situations? the popular authoress, for instance, who makes love to your last hero--dear, what an exquisite creature he is!--how odd she must feel it to be 'put in a book' and recognised by every body! ah! you are a dangerous man, mr. mostyn; perhaps you'll put me in a book some day, if i am good enough, or bad enough, or ask you here sufficiently often to do all my sittings properly--but--lady henmarsh looks as if i ought to have moved before this;" and so saying katharine rose, and, like "fair inez," took all the sunshine and light of every description with her, so far as robert streightley was concerned. whether mr. mostyn was quite so sorry for her departure was another question. robert looked at this gentleman with some curiosity and a little dawning compassion, for it struck him that katharine had not spoken altogether de bonne foi, and he was curious to ascertain whether he too was aware of the fact.

robert had little experience of persiflage, and was not behind the scenes on this occasion; but two or three of the other guests were, and they enjoyed the quiet little performance which had just been enacted greatly. as for mr. mostyn, his momentary discomfiture passed off with the characteristic reflection, that jealousy made all women spiteful, and miss guyon had really not had so much of his attention lately as she deserved,--he must be more considerate of her feelings for the future. the ladies gone, the gentlemen drew up into the usual cluster, and commenced the ordinary after-dinner conversation; and robert would probably have found the affair very wearisome on its own account, not to mention that he was longing to be in katharine's presence again, had not mr. guyon exerted himself to the utmost to draw 'him out, and to give the conversation a general turn, so as to include him, and to make it evident to the whole party that the "new man" was one whom he delighted to honour.

when the ladies were passing through the hall, lady henmarsh had said laughingly to katharine, "for shame, kate; you were too hard on the young author."

"nonsense!" replied katharine. "you enjoyed it immensely, and he deserved it richly."

when the gentlemen came into the drawing-room at mr. guyon's that night, katharine was seated at the piano. had any portion of robert streightley's heart remained unvanquished, she would have conquered it by her music: but he was already as much in love as he could be. soon the business of leave-taking commenced. robert was reluctantly advancing to make his adieux, when mr. guyon took him familiarly by the arm and said,

"don't go just yet, streightley. we'll see the ladies to the carriage, and then have a chat and a cigar in my room."

miss guyon left the room with lady henmarsh, but returned in a few minutes, wrapped in a soft white mantle. every alteration in her appearance made her more beautiful in robert's eyes. he had the felicity of taking her downstairs; and as she bowed and smiled from the corner of the carriage in which she had ensconced herself, and was then borne rapidly away, robert needed mr. guyon's "come along, streightley; don't stand there in the cold," to rouse him from a sort of trance of admiration.

the ball at mrs. pendarvis's was crowded and brilliant, and katharine's hopes were realised. gordon frere had waited her arrival on the staircase, and claimed her for the first dance. the hours passed like a dream to them both; and when mr. alured mostyn "looked in," and at length succeeded in finding miss guyon, he saw her so radiant with beauty, so sparkling with animation, that he was quite touched at the idea of the effect produced by her pleasure in seeing him.

another person noticed the unusual beauty and the increased animation of katharine guyon that night, and formed a truer estimate of its origin. this was lady henmarsh. she made certain observations, drew certain conclusions, and determined on a line of conduct which will develop itself in the course of events.

and robert? well, robert had his chat and his cigar with mr. guyon, and then he went home--home to the house which he had never before thought vulgar or insignificant, which he had never thought about at all indeed, and which was in truth much more solidly comfortable than the gaudier abode which had suddenly been converted into a shrine to his fancy. he shrunk from it now as he thought, "i wonder what she would say to this, and our mode of life here?" and he returned the old nurse's greeting with grudging ill-humour, being inclined to resent her sitting up for him, though it was not an abnormally late hour, and her opening the door for him, which, though not her business, was, as he well knew, her pleasure.

"any news, nurse? any letters?" he asked, in a tone wholly devoid of interest in the reply.

"no, master robert," said the old woman; "there's no letters, and there's nobody been but miss hester gould, a-wantin' to know when miss ellen's comin' home."