ishop in those play-weddings of Lady Jane's,
very often when the function went against the grain.

The Marquis thus familiarly spoken about was Lord Strishfogel, the
richest nobleman in Ireland, and a great sea-rover, famous for his
steam yachts, and his importance generally. He had admired Lady Jane's
statuesque beauty, and had been more particular in his attentions than
the rest of her satellites, who for the most part merely worshipped her
because it was the right thing to do. Lord Strishfogel had promised to
come to Heron's Nest, Lord Lodway's place in the Wolds, for the
grouse-shooting; but instead of keeping his promise, this erratic young
peer went off to the Golden Horn, to race his yacht against the vessel
of a great Turkish official. This was Lady Jane Umleigh's first
disappointment. She had liked Lord Strishfogel just well enough to
fancy herself deeply in love with him, and she was unconscious of the
influence his rank and wealth had exercised upon her feelings. She had
thought of herself so often as the Marchioness of Strishfogel, had so
completely projected her mind into that brilliant future, that to
descend from this giddy height to the insignificance of unwedded
girlhood was as sharp a fall as if she had worn a crown and lost it.

Her second season began, and Lord Strishfogel was still a rover; He was
in the South Seas by this time, writing a book, and enjoying halcyon
days among the friendly natives, swimming like a dolphin in those
summery seas, and indulging in harmless flirtations with dusky
princesses, whose chief attire was made of shells and flowers, and
whose untutored dancing was more vigorous than refined. At the end of
that second season, Jane Umleigh had serious thoughts of turning
philanthropist, and taking a shipload of destitute young women to
Australia. Anything would be better than this sense of a wasted life
and ignominious failure.

She was in this frame of mind when Mr. Vawdrey came to Heron's Nest for
the shooting. He was a commoner, but his family was one of the oldest
in Hampshire, and he had lately distinguished himself by some rather
clever speeches in the House of Commons. His estate was worth fifteen
thousand a year, and he was altogether a man of some mark. Above all,
he was handsome, manly, and a gentleman to the marrow of his bones, and
he was the first man who ever fell over head and ears in love with Jane
Umleigh.

The charms that had repelled more frivolous admirers