But there, in the throng of people, they were separated.
Harry Wethermill was looking carefully after Celia, as a good lover should.

He had, it seemed, no eyes for any one else; and it was not until a minute or two had passed that the girl herself noticed that Mme.

Dauvray was not with them.
"We will find her easily," said Harry.
"Of course," replied Celia.
"There is, after all, no hurry," said Wethermill, with a laugh; "and perhaps she was not unwilling to leave us together." Celia dimpled to a smile.
"Mme.

Dauvray is kind to me," she said, with a very pretty timidity.
"And yet more kind to me," said Wethermill in a low voice which brought the blood into Celia's cheeks.
But even while he spoke he soon caught sight of Mme.

Dauvray standing by one of the tables; and near to her was Adele Tace.