a tearful
drawl: "My dear Drake, of course it is exactly as you say. Who doesn't
know it is so? It has always been so and always will be. But what refuge
is there for the poor leisured people but these diversions which you
despise? And as for the poor titled classes--well, they manage to make
their play their business sometimes, don't you know. Confess that they do
sometimes, now, eh?"

Lord Robert was laughing with an awkward constraint, but Drake looked
frankly into his face and said:

"How's that matter going on, Robert?"

"Fairly, I think, though the girl is not very hot on it. The thing came
off last week, and when it was over I felt as if I had proposed to the
girl and been accepted by the mother, don't you know. I believe this rout
to-night is expressly in honour of the event, so I mustn't run away from
my bargain."

He lay back, sent funnels of smoke to the ceiling, and then said, with a
laugh like a gurgle: "I'm not likely to, though. That eternal dun was
here again to-day. I had to tell him that the marriage would come off in
a year certain. That was the only understanding on which he would agree
to wait for his money. Bad? Of course it's bad; but what would you have,
dear boy?"

The men smoked in silence for a moment, and then Lord Robert said again:
"Come, old fellow, for friendship's sake, if nothing else. She's a decent
little woman, and dead bent on having you at her house to-night. And if
you're badly bored we'll not stay long. We'll come away early
and--listen--we'll slip across to the Nurses' Ball at Bartimaeus's
Hospital; there'll be fun enough there, at all events."

"I'll go," said Drake.

Half an hour later the two young men were driving up to the door of Mrs.
Macrae's house in Belgrave Square. There was a line of carriages in front
of it, and they had to wait their turn to approach the gate. Footmen in
gorgeous livery were ready to open the cab door, to help the guests
across the red baize that lay on the pavement, to usher them into the
hall, to lead them to the little marble chamber where they entered their
names in a list intended for the next day's _Morning Post_, and finally
to direct them to the great staircase where the general crush moved
slowly up to the saloon above.

In the well of the stairs, half hidden behind a little forest of palms
and ferns, a band in yellow and blue uniform sat playing the people in.
On the landing the hostess stood waiting to receive, and many of the