Until that moment it had not occurred to Hero that there could be the least difficulty in disclosing the whole of her story to Miss Milborne, but under the steady gaze of those lovely eyes she found herself faltering in her recital, blushing a little, stumbling over what before had seemed so simple and so natural.

Miss Milborne heard her out, in slowly gathering wrath. It was just as she had suspected: Hero had indeed stolen another of her suitors, and Wrotham was as volatile as her Mama had so often assured her he was! If she needed any confirmation of the gravity of the episode, she had it in Sherry’s challenge to George. Miss Milborne was well aware that no sane man would call George out, except under the most extreme provocation, and since Sherry had shown no signs of inebriety at the ball she failed to allow for the exhilarating properties of champagne punch as mixed by the Honourable Ferdy Fakenham. Her bosom swelled, and she was conscious of a humiliating desire to burst into tears. As for Hero’s explanation that George had kissed her because she had rejected his violets, she had never heard anything so lame in her life.

She said in a trembling voice: “I am sure I do not wonder that Sherry should have called him out! But you, Hero! — how could you do so? I had not thought you so fast, so lacking in principle!”

“I am not fast or lacking in principle!” said Hero indignantly. “I was so sorry for poor George that if he wanted to kiss me — just for comfort, you know! — it would have been quite horrid of me to have repulsed him!”

“My dear Lady Sheringham, I wish you will not put yourself to the trouble of telling me nonsensical stories!” said Miss Milborne, in what she meant to be a stately manner but which, even to her own ears, sounded merely pettish.

“Isabella Milborne, I think you are the cruellest creature alive!” said Hero, her eyes flashing. “I would not credit it when George said you had no heart, but I think you have none indeed! How can you have looked at poor George last night and not pitied him?”

Miss Milborne averted her face, replying stiffly: “What pity I may have felt for Lord Wrotham — and you are not to be a judge of that, if you please! — was plainly thrown away, since he contrived very speedily to console himself.”

“Fudge!” retorted Hero. “He wanted to kiss you, but since he could not, and I was there, he kissed me instead; but as for consoling himself — why, how can you be so stupid? Do you not know how it is with gentlemen? They kiss so easily, and it does not mean anything at all!”

“No, I am happy to say I do not,” replied Miss Milborne.

“Good gracious! I quite thought you knew much more than I did, for you have been out for so much longer!” exclaimed Hero ingenuously.

Miss Milborne flushed, and answered in a voice with an edge to it: “Do you mean to suggest, ma’am, that you consider me to be in danger of becoming an old maid?”

“No, I do not — though perhaps you will be one, if you do not learn to be a little kinder, Isabella!”

“Indeed! Perhaps you would advocate my bestowing my kisses with that generosity you yourself show?” said Miss Milborne, her colour now much heightened.

Perceiving that she had thoroughly enraged the Beauty, Hero made haste to say contritely: “No, indeed! I beg your pardon: I had no business to say that. It is only that I have a particular kindness for George, and I cannot bear to see him made unhappy.”

“I do not presume to advise you, ma’am, but I must hope that your particular kindness for Lord Wrotham may not lead you into a worse scrape than this unsavoury affair. Forgive me if I speak too boldly! You have done me the signal honour of confiding in me — with what object I am at a loss to understand — ”

“Oh, Isabella, pray do not talk in that missish way!” Hero besought her. “Can you not guess why I have come to beg you to help me?”

“I have not the remotest conjecture.”

“Oh, dear, and I was used to think you so clever! The thing is, you must know what George is, Bella! They say he never misses, and, oh, he must not kill Sherry, he shall not kill him!”

Miss Milborne shrugged her shoulders. “I imagine there can be little fear of either killing the other.”

“So I thought, but Gil and Ferdy have been with George all the morning, and they say there is no moving him! He likes fighting duels — isn’t it odd? They say that when he is in one of these tiresome moods there is no doing anything with him! Isabella, I must stop this dreadful meeting!”

“I am sure I do not know how you will contrive to do so.”

“That is why I have come to you. Isabella, though he will not listen to Gil or Ferdy, George will listen to you! Oh, will you be so very obliging as to send for him, and make him promise he won’t fight Sherry? Please, Isabella, will you do that for me?”

Miss Milborne rose to her feet somewhat suddenly. “I send for George?” she repeated, in stupefied tones “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

“No, of course I have not! You must know that there can be nothing he would not do for your sake! You have only to beg him — ”

“I would sooner die an old maid!”

Startled by the suppressed passion in the Beauty’s voice, Hero could only blink at her in surprise. Miss Milborne pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. “Upon my word, I had not thought it possible! So I am to send for George, and to supplicate him not to engage in a duel! After he has been making shameless love to you! Nothing — nothing could prevail upon me to do it! I am astonished you should ask it of me! Pray tell me why you, who are on such intimate terms with him, do not supplicate George yourself! I am persuaded your words must carry quite as much weight with him as mine. More, I dare say!”

Hero sprang up, her hands tightly locked together within her ermine muff, quite as angry a flush as Isabella’s in her cheeks. “You are right! I will go to George! He does not make shameless love to me; no, for he has no love for me! but he is fond of me, a little, and he did say he would not wish to make me unhappy! I do not know how I can have been so foolish as to think that you would help me, for there is nothing behind your beauty but vanity and spite, Isabella!”

With these words she fairly ran from the room, and down the stairs, letting herself out of the front door, and shutting it behind her with a slam. She entered her barouche, and told the surprised footman to direct the coachman to drive to Lord Wrotham’s lodging.

His lordship was at home, and had barely time to straighten his neckcloth, and run a hand over his tumbled locks before his visitor came tempestuously into the room.

“George!” Hero said, casting her muff on to a chair, and advancing upon him with both hands stretched out.

“My dear Lady Sheringham!” George said, bowing formally, one eye on the wooden countenance of his servant.

This individual reluctantly withdrew from the room, just as Hero cried sharply: “Oh, don’t, George! I am in such distress!”

He caught her hands, and held them warmly. “No, no, but Kitten, you must think what my man would imagine! You should not have come here!”

“No, I know I should not, but what else could I do? for I know very well you would not come to Half Moon Street.”

“Hardly!”

“Then you see that I was obliged to come!”

He glanced quickly out of the window, perceived the crest on the panel of her barouche, and exclaimed: “In your own carriage! Kitten, you are incorrigible! Good God, if Sherry gets wind of this there’ll be the devil to pay, and no pitch hot!”

“How can it signify? Nothing could be worse than it is at this moment! George, you must not meet Sherry!”

“I shall certainly do so, however.”

She clasped the lapels of his coat, giving him a little shake. “No, I say you shall not! George, you know it was very wrong of us, although we meant no harm. Please, George, beg Sherry’s pardon, and let us all be comfortable again!”

He shook his head obstinately. “I have never drawn back yet from an engagement, and by God, I will not do so now!”

“Yes, but, George, this time — ”

“Besides, I’m dashed if I’ll apologize for kissing you! I liked it excessively!” said George brazenly. “If Sherry had a grain of sense, he’d know it didn’t mean a thing, too!”

“George, you said you would not wish to make me unhappy!” Hero said desperately.

“No, by Jove, not for the world!”

“But don’t you see, you stupid creature, that if you kill Sherry I shall be so unhappy I shall die?” Hero cried.

“Oh, I’m not going to kill Sherry!” said his lordship carelessly. “What put that into your head?”

She released his coat, and stood staring at him. “But they told me — Gil and Ferdy — ”

“You don’t mean that that brace of gudgeons blabbed the whole thing to you?” George ejaculated.

“But what else could they do, when they thought you meant to kill Sherry?”

“Pooh! nonsense! Who said anything about killing anyone? Good God, Sherry’s a friend of mine!”

“Yes, but — but if you do not mean to beg his pardon, I am much afraid he will insist on fighting you,” said Hero.

“Oh, lord, yes! He’s a regular good ’un, Sherry!” said George, with the utmost cordiality.

Hero regarded him blankly. “George, if you mean to wound Sherry, I would much, much rather you did not!”

“No, no, I won’t hurt a hair of his head!” he assured her. “I shall delope.”

“What is that, please?”

“Oh! — fire into the air!”

“Well, George, indeed I am much obliged to you, but would it not be better not to meet Sherry at all?”