CHAPTER XV.
For a day or two, Michael Arranstoun could not make up his mind, when he heard of the Ebbsworth ball, as to whether or no he ought to go to it.
He had several conversations with Binko upon the subject, and finally came to the conclusion that he would go.

He had grown so desperately unhappy by this time, that he cared no more whether it were right or wrong--he must see Sabine.

He had not believed that it could be possible for him to suffer to such a degree about a woman.

He _must_ satisfy himself absolutely as to the fact of her loving Henry.
Rose Forster had written, of course, to ask him to stay in the house for it--holding out the bait that she had two absolutely charming Americans coming.

So Michael fell--and accepted, not without excusing himself to Binko as he finished writing out his wire: Thousand thanks.