Why should one of those meddlesome fine ladies choose for the hour of her empty, unimportant visit his last hour with Mary Gray?
He sat irritated, shy, awkward, his feelings faithfully reflected in his face.

The door opened.

A lady came in whom he had occasionally met in drawing-rooms, a slight, tall woman, with a brilliant brunette face.

A delicate perfume came with her entrance.

She was finely dressed, as fine as a humming-bird, and it became her.