“Extremely elegant! It is something quite out of the common, sir,” murmured Miss Taverner, wishing that he had not shut the door into the Saloon.

“Yes, that I flatter myself it certainly is,” he said with a good deal of satisfaction. “But I will tell you something, my dear: your pretty curls are precisely the colour of my gilding! Now, is not that odd? You must allow me to tell you that you make a charming picture.” He laughed at her evident confusion, and pinched her cheek. “No, no, there is no need to colour up! You do not need me to tell you what a little beauty you are, when you can see yourself in the mirror whichever way you turn,”

He was standing very close to her, one hand fondling her wrist, and his eyes fixed on her face in a greedy way that made her feel hotter than ever, and more than a little frightened. She pretended to be interested in the Vulliamy timepiece that stood on the mantelshelf, and moved towards the fireplace, saying: “You have so many beautiful things in the Pavilion, sir; one is continually in a state of admiration.”

“Yes, yes, I daresay, but the most beautiful thing in it only came to it an hour ago,” he replied, following her.

Regent or no, she must try to check this amorous mood. She said as lightly as she could: “You were going to show me something, sir. What can it be, I wonder? May I see it before we return to the Saloon?”

“Oh, no hurry for that!” he replied. “But you shall certainly see it, for it is your own, you know. There!” He picked up a Petitot snuff-box from one of the tables, and closed her fingers on it. “That is an odd gift for a lady, is it not? But I fancy you Eke snuff-boxes better than trinkets.”

“I do not know what to say, sir,” faltered Miss Taverner. “You are very good. I—I thank you, and assure you I shall treasure it, and—and always feel myself to have been honoured indeed.”

“Come, come, come!” said the Regent, smiling broadly. “That is not how I like to be thanked! Supposing we were to forget all this ceremony, eh?”

He was standing so close to her now that she could feel the warmth of his body. He was going to kiss her; his hand was stealing up her bare arm; his breath was on her averted cheek. His grossness, the very scent with which he lavishly sprinkled his clothes, revolted her. Her impulse was to thrust him away, and to run back into the Saloon, but she felt curiously weak, and the heat of the room was making her head spin.

His arm encircled her waist; he said caressingly: “Why, here is a shy little miss! But you must not be shy with me, must you?”

Miss Taverner had the oddest sensation of being hot and cold at once. She said in an uncertain voice: “Forgive me, sir, but the room is so close—I am afraid—I must—sit down for a moment!” She made a feeble attempt to disengage herself from his hold, and then, for the first time in her life, quietly fainted away.

She regained consciousness a minute or two later, and was aware first of feeling very sick, and then of being in strange, glittering surroundings. A peevish voice was saying loudly: “Nonsense! no such thing! She was overpowered by the heat! Most unfortunate! quite extraordinary! I never heard of such a thing. Fainting in the Pavilion! Really, it is a damned awkward situation! I would not have had it happen for the world.”

Miss Taverner recognized the voice, felt a cool hand on her brow, and shuddered uncontrollably. She gave a fluttering sob, and opened her eyes, and found herself looking straight up into her guardian’s face. She stared for a moment. “Oh, it’s you!” she murmured thankfully.

“Yes, it’s I,” Worth said in his level voice. “You will be better in a minute. Don’t try to get up.”

She groped for his hand. “Please stay. Please don’t go away and leave me here.”

His hand closed reassuringly on hers. There was a curious expression on his face, as though he was surprised at something. “There is nothing to alarm you,” he said. “I am not going away, but I want to procure you a glass of wine.”

“I don’t know how I came to fault,” she said childishly. “I have never done so before. But I did not know what to do, and—”

“You fainted from the heat,” he interposed. There was a note of finality in his voice; he did not seem to want her to say any more. He disengaged his hand and rose. “I am going to get you something to drink.”

Miss Taverner watched him walk away, and tried to marshal her wits into order. It dawned on her that she was lying at full length on a sofa in the Regent’s Yellow Drawing-room, and that the Regent himself was present, looking sulky, and very much aggrieved. She managed to sit up, and to put her feet to the ground, though her head swam unpleasantly. She now remembered with tolerable clarity the events which had preceded her swoon. How Worth came to be there she had no notion; nor could she imagine what had possessed her to cling to his hand like a frightened schoolgirl. She said, trying to speak with composure: “I must beg your pardon, sir, for being so troublesome. I have disgraced myself indeed.”

The Regent’s brow cleared a little. “Oh, not at all! not at all! I daresay the room was a trifle warm. But you are better now; you will not object to my shutting the window again?”

She looked round, and saw that the striped curtains had been pulled back, and one of the long windows flung open. “Certainly, sir. I am quite recovered, I assure you.”

The Regent hurried over to the window, and shut it. “The night air is very treacherous,” he said severely. “And I am particularly susceptible to chills. It was shockingly careless of Worth—however, I say nothing, and we must trust that no harm will come of it.”

She assented, leaning her aching head on her hand. The Regent regarded her with considerable anxiety, and wished that Worth would make haste to come back. Miss Taverner was looking very sickly, and it would be extremely awkward if she were to swoon again. There had never been anything so unlucky, to be sure. How could he guess that the girl was such a prudish little fool? McMahon—to whom he would have something to say presently—had grossly misled him. And as for that damned fellow Worth not concerning himself with his ward, that was another of McMahon’s unforgivable blunders. Worth had stalked in without ceremony, without so much as common courtesy, and not only had he not believed a word his Prince had said, but he had had the insolence to show it. It was really a great deal too bad of the girl to place him in such an uncomfortable situation. For he had done nothing, nothing at all! But to be found clasping a swooning female in his arms, to be forced to explain it all in a great hurry to the girl’s guardian, wounded his dignity, always his most vulnerable spot. He had been made to appear ridiculous: he would find it hard to forgive Miss Taverner. However, she did seem to be behaving more sensibly now; he had had a horrid fright upon her first coming-to, that she was going to pour out some nonsensical, untruthful version of the affair to Worth.

He peered at her anxiously. She still looked very pale. If he had not been bound to consider his own health he would have felt tempted to open the window again. “A glass of wine will make you feel very much more the thing,” he said hopefully.

“Yes, sir. It is nothing, and I am ashamed to have put you to so much trouble. I beg you will not neglect your other guests for my sake. Your absence will be remarked. If Mrs. Scattergood could be sent for—”

“Certainly, if you wish it—immediately!” he said. “Though she is playing cards, you know, and I daresay it would cause a little talk, which you would not like.”

“Oh no! You are very right, sir,” she answered submissively. “Lord Worth will know what is best to be done.”

The Earl came back into the room at that moment, with a glass in his hand. “I see you are better, Miss Taverner. May I suggest, sir, that it would be advisable for you to return to the Saloon? You need not scruple to leave Miss Taverner in my charge.”

The Regent was perfectly ready to follow this piece of advice, even though he might resent the manner in which it was given. He begged Miss Taverner not to think of leaving the drawing-room until she felt herself to be quite recovered; assured her that he did not at all regard the trouble she had made; and went out by the door into the Chinese Gallery, which Worth was holding open for him.

The Earl shut the door, and came back to Miss Taverner’s side. He obliged her to drink some of the wine he had brought. The relief she had felt on first seeing him had by now given place to mortification at being found in so compromising a situation. She said with difficulty: “I did not know you were in the Pavilion. You must wonder at finding me in this room, I daresay, but—”

“Miss Taverner, how came you to do such a thing?” he interrupted. “I entered the Saloon to be met by the intelligence, conveyed to me by Brummell, that you had slipped away with the Regent. I came immediately to put an end to so improper a tête-à-tête, and I found you fainting in the Regent’s arms. You will tell me at once, if you please, what this means! What has happened in this room?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing, upon my honour!” she said wretchedly. “It was the heat, only the heat!”

“Why are you here?” he demanded. “What purpose can you have had in going apart with the Regent? Careless of your reputation I know you to be, but I had not thought it possible that you could behave with such imprudence!”

She was stung into replying: “How could I help going with him when he pressed me to as he did? What was I to say? Mrs. Scattergood was in the card-room; you were not present How could I know what I should do or say when no less a person than the Prince-Regent requested my company? These reproaches might have been spared! You cannot know the circumstances. Say no more! You may think me what you please: I am sure I do not care!”