Anna the Adventuress

"By-the-bye," his neighbour asked him languidly, "who is our hostess?"

"Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall," Ennison answered,

"unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong

house."

"How dull you are," the lady remarked. "Of course I mean, who was

she?"

"I believe that her name was Pellissier," Ennison answered.

"Pellissier," she repeated thoughtfully. "There were some Hampshire

Pellissiers."

"She is one of them," Ennison said.

"Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up."

"In Paris, I think," Ennison answered. "Only married a few months ago

and lived out at Hampstead."

"Heavens!" the lady exclaimed. "I heard they came from somewhere

outrageous."

"Hampstead didn't suit Lady Ferringhall," Ennison remarked. "They have

just taken this house from Lady Cellender."

"And what are you doing here?" the lady asked.

"Politics!" Ennison answered grimly. "And you?"

"Same thing. Besides, my husband has shares in Sir John's company. Do

you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the

tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. Our land brings us in

nothing. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their

business, and in return we ask them to--dinner. By-the-bye, have you

seen this new woman at the 'Empire'? What is it they call

her--'Alcide?'"

"Yes, I have seen her," Ennison answered.

"Every one raves about her," Lady Angela continued. "For my part I can

see no difference in any of these French girls who come over here with

their demure manner and atrocious songs."

"'Alcide's' songs are not atrocious," Ennison remarked.

Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders.

"It is unimportant," she said. "Nobody understands them, of course,

but we all look as though we did. Something about this woman rather

reminds me of our hostess."

Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from

one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel.

Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her

head, the play of her eyes startled him. Then he remembered that she

was Anna's sister.

He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her.

"By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall," he said, "do you know that I am a very

great admirer of your sister's? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you

of me."

The change in Lady Ferringhall's manner was subtle but unmistakable.

She answered him almost coldly.

"I see nothing of my sister," she said. "In Paris our lives were far

apart, and we had seldom the same friends. I have heard of you from my

husband. You are somebody's secretary, are you not?"

It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison,

although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once

discard it.