The woman who formed the central figure of the little group had for two years known no rival either at Court or in Society.

She was the most beautiful woman in England, beautiful too with all the subtle grace of her royal descent.
There were women upon the stage whose faces might have borne comparison with hers, but there was not one who in a room would not have sunk into insignificance by her side.

Her movements, her carriage were incomparable--the inherited gifts of a race of women born in palaces.
Mr.Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her with a grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness.

Suddenly she saw him.
With a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretched hands.
"It is marvelous," she exclaimed.

"You?
Really you ?" He bowed low over her hands.
"It is I, dear Helene," he answered.