upon her were heirlooms of the Heyburn family, and in that grey
light looked cold and glassy. The powder and the slight touch of carmine
upon her cheeks, which at night had served to heighten her beauty, now
gave her an appearance of painted artificiality. She was undeniably a
pretty woman, and surely required no artificial aids to beauty. About
thirty-three, yet she looked five years younger; while her husband was
twenty years senior to herself. She still retained a figure so girlish
that most people took her for Gabrielle's elder sister, while in the
matter of dress she was admitted in society to be one of the leaders of
fashion. Her hair was of that rare copper-gold tint, her features
regular, with a slightly protruding chin, soft eyes, and cheeks perfect
in their contour. Society knew her as a gay, reckless, giddy woman, who,
regardless of the terrible affliction which had fallen upon the
brilliant man who was her husband, surrounded herself with a circle of
friends of the same type as herself, and who thoroughly enjoyed her life
regardless of any gossip or of the malignant statements by women who
envied her.

Men were fond of "Winnie Heyburn," as they called her, and always voted
her "good fun." They pitied poor Sir Henry; but, after all, he was
blind, and preferred his hobbies of collecting old seals and dusty
parchment manuscripts to dances, bridge-parties, theatres, aero shows at
Ranelagh, and suppers at the Carlton or Savoy.

Like most wealthy women of her type, she had a wide circle of male
friends. Younger men declared her to be "a real pal," and with some of
the older beaux she would flirt and be amused by their flattering
speeches.

Gabrielle's mother, the second daughter of Lord Buckhurst, had been dead
several years when the brilliant politician met his second wife at a
garden-party at Dollis Hill. She was daughter of a man named Lambert, a
paper manufacturer, who acted as political agent in the town of Bedford;
and she was, therefore, essentially a country cousin. Her beauty was,
however, remarked everywhere. The Baronet was struck by her, and within
three months they were married at St. George's, Hanover Square, the
world congratulating her upon a very excellent match. From the very
first, however, the difference in the ages of husband and wife proved a
barrier. Ere the honeymoon was over she found that her husband, tied by
his political engagements and by his eternal duties at the House, was
unable