CHAPTER IV.
THE SECRET OF HARRY LUTTRELL "Shall I take you home ?" "Oh, will you ?" cried Stella Croyle, with a little burst of pleasure.
After all, Hillyard was the great man of the evening, and that he should consider her out of all that company was pleasant.

"I will get my cloak." Throughout the supper-party Hillyard had been at a loss to discover in Stella Croyle the woman whom Hardiman had led him to expect.

Her spirits were high, but unforced.

She chattered away with more gaiety than wit, like the rest of Hardiman's guests, but the gaiety was apt to the occasion.

She had the gift of a clear and musical laugh, and her small delicate face would wrinkle and pout into grimaces which gave to her a rather attractive air of _gaminerie_--Hillyard could find no word but the French one to express her on that evening.