'What names shall I announce, sir?' said the man at the door. Mr Tracy Tupman was stepping forward to give his own name, when the stranger prevented him.

'No names at all;' he said and then whispered to Mr Tupman, ' Our names won't do - they're not known - they're good names, but not great ones - excellent names for a small group, but they won't impress a public assemby.

We'll be incognito - that's the thing - say we're gentlemen from London - foreigners - anything.' The door was thrown open, and Mr Tracy Tupman and the stranger entered the ballroom.

It was a long room, with crimson-covered benches, and wax candles in glass chandeliers.

The musicians were in an elevated area, and quadrilles were being systematically got through by two or three sets of dancers. Two card-tables were made up in the card-room, and there two pairs of old ladies, and the same number of stout gentlemen, were playing whist.

The music concluded, the dancers promenaded the room, and Mr Tupman and his companion put themselves in a corner to observe everyone there.