the door.

"Come in," said Lady Henry, impatiently.

The door opened, and Mademoiselle Le Breton appeared on the threshold,
carrying a small gray terrier under each arm.

"I thought I had better tell you," she said, humbly, "that I am taking
the dogs out. Shall I get some fresh wool for your knitting?"

III

It was nearly four o'clock. Sir Wilfrid had just closed Lady Henry's
door behind him, and was again walking along Bruton Street.

He was thinking of the little scene of Mademoiselle Le Breton's
appearance on the threshold of Lady Henry's dining-room; of the insolent
sharpness with which Lady Henry had given her order upon order--as to
the dogs, the books for the circulating library, a message for her
dressmaker, certain directions for the tradesmen, etc., etc.--as though
for the mere purpose of putting the woman who had dared to be her rival
in her right place before Sir Wilfrid Bury. And at the end, as she was
departing, Mademoiselle Le Breton, trusting no doubt to Lady Henry's
blindness, had turned towards himself, raising her downcast eyes upon
him suddenly, with a proud, passionate look. Her lips had moved; Sir
Wilfrid had half risen from his chair. Then, quickly, the door had
closed upon her.

Sir Wilfrid could not think of it without a touch of excitement.

"Was she reminding me of Gherardtsloo?" he said to himself. "Upon my
word, I must find some means of conversation with her, in spite of
Lady Henry."

He walked towards Bond Street, pondering the situation of the two
women--the impotent jealousy and rancor with which Lady Henry was
devoured, the domestic slavery contrasted with the social power of
Mademoiselle Le Breton. Through the obscurity and difficulty of
circumstance, how marked was the conscience of race in her, and, as he
also thought, of high intelligence! The old man was deeply interested.
He felt a certain indulgent pity for his lifelong friend Lady Henry; but
he could not get Mademoiselle Julie out of his head.

"Why on earth does she stay where she is?"

He had asked the same question of Lady Henry, who had contemptuously
replied:

"Because she likes the flesh-pots, and won't give them up. No doubt she
doesn't find my manners agreeable; but she knows very well that she
wouldn't get the chances she gets in my house anywhere else. I give her
a foothold. She'll not risk it for a few sour speeches on my part. I may
say what I like to her--and I intend to say what I like! Besides,