Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo. E. Phillips Oppenheim

in?"

      "Can't help it," he answered contentedly. "I've spoken to her and she smiled."

      Lady Weybourne opened her gold bag and produced a card.

      "Well," she said, "here is another chance for you. Of course, I don't know that it will come to anything, but you may as well try your luck."

      "What is it?" he asked.

      She thrust a square of gilt-edged cardboard into his hand.

      "It's an invitation," she told him, "from the directors, to attend a dinner at La Turbie Golf Club-house, up in the mountains, to-night. It isn't entirely a joke, I can tell you. It takes at least an hour to get there, climbing all the way, and the place is as likely as not to be wrapped in clouds, but a great many of the important people are going, and as I happened to see Mr. Grex's name amongst the list of members, the other night, there is always a chance that they may be there. If not, you see, you can soon come back."

      "I'm on," Richard decided. "Give me the ticket. I am awfully obliged to you, Flossie."

      "If she is there," Lady Weybourne declared, rising, "I shall consider that it is equivalent to one wheel of the coupé."

      "Have a cocktail instead," he suggested.

      She shook her head.

      "Too early. If we meet later on, I'll have one. What are you going to do?"

      "Same as I've been doing ever since lunch," he answered—"hang around and see if I can meet any one who knows them."

      She laughed and hurried off into the baccarat room, and Richard presently returned to the table at which the girl was still playing. He took particular care not to approach her, but he found a place on the opposite side of the room, from which he could watch her unobserved. She was still standing and apparently she was losing her money. Once, with a little petulant frown, she turned away and moved a few yards lower down the room. The first time she staked in her new position, she won, and a smile which it seemed to him was the most brilliant he had ever seen, parted her lips. He stood there looking at her, and in the midst of a scene where money seemed god of all things, he realised all manner of strange and pleasant sensations. The fact that he had twenty thousand francs in his pocket to play with, scarcely occurred to him. He was watching a little wisp of golden hair by her ear, watching her slightly wrinkled forehead as she leaned over the table, her little grimace as she lost and her stake was swept away. She seemed indifferent to all bystanders. It was obvious that she had very few acquaintances. Where he stood it was not likely that she would notice him, and he abandoned himself wholly to the luxury of gazing at her. Then some instinct caused him to turn his head. He felt that he in his turn was being watched. He glanced towards the divan set against the wall, by the side of which he was standing. Mr. Grex was seated there, only a few feet away, smoking a cigarette. Their eyes met and Richard was conscious of a sudden embarrassment. He felt like a detected thief, and he acted at that moment as he often did—entirely on impulse. He leaned down and resolutely addressed Mr. Grex.