As they ascended the steps Daniel Lane cast a pair of searching blue eyes upon the resplendent figure of the girl in the chair. In the sheen of the moon her dress, of flimsy material, seemed to array her as it were in a mist; and the diamonds about her throat and in her hair--for she was wearing family jewels--gleamed like magic points of light.
"Got a party on?" he asked, with somewhat disconcerting directness.
"A dance," Rupert Helsingham replied, stiffly, "in honour of Lady Muriel's arrival. But let me introduce you."
He turned to the girl, and effected the introduction. "Mr. Lane," he said, "is one of your father's most trusted friends. I don't know what we should do sometimes without his counsel and advice. He knows the native mind inside out."
Now that the man had removed his hat, Lady Muriel felt sure that she had seen him before, but where, she could not recall. The face was unforgettable. The broad forehead from which the rough mud-coloured hair was thrown back
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