"Mind, not a word of this to any one but your wife; the girls don't know they're going themselves yet." They entered the dining-room, where every one else was already assembled.

Mrs.Da Souza, a Jewess portly and typical, resplendent in black satin and many gold chains and bangles, occupied the seat of honour, and by her side was a little brown girl, with dark, timid eyes and dusky complexion, pitiably over-dressed but with a certain elf-like beauty, which it was hard to believe that she could ever have inherited.
Miss Montressor and her friend sat on either side of their host--an arrangement which Mrs.Da Souza lamented, but found herself powerless to prevent, and her husband took the vacant place.

Dinner was served, and with the opening of the champagne, which was not long delayed, tongues were loosened.
"It was very hot in the City to-day," Mrs.Da Souza remarked to her host.

"Dear Julie was saying what a shame it seemed that you should be there and we should be enjoying your beautiful gardens.

She is so thoughtful, so sympathetic! Dear girl!" "Very kind of your daughter," Trent answered, looking directly at her and rather inclined to pity her obvious shyness.