But she liked it.

It was a novelty after the smaller change of ballroom compliments.
She was watching the door all the while.
Presently the music ceased and they made their way back to the spot whence he had taken her.

She led the way thither by an almost imperceptible pressure of her fingers on his arm.

There were several men waiting there, and one or two more entering the room and looking languidly round.
"There comes the favoured one," Lady Cantourne muttered, with a veiled glance towards her companion.
Sir John's grey eyes followed the direction of her glance.
"My bright boy ?" he inquired, with a wealth of sarcasm on the adjective.
"Your bright boy," she replied.
"I hope not," he said curtly.
They were watching a tall fair man in the doorway who seemed to know everybody, so slow was his progress into the room.

The most remarkable thing about this man was a certain grace of movement.