Not that Sir Percy Blakeney was unpopular with the fair sex. Far be it
from the veracious chronicler's mind even to suggest such a thing. The
ladies would have voted any gathering dull if Sir Percy's witty sallies
did not ring from end to end of the dancing hall, if his new satin coat
and 'broidered waistcoat did not call for comment or admiration.

But that was the frivolous set, to which Lady Blakeney had never
belonged.

It was well known that she had always viewed her good-natured husband
as the most willing and most natural butt for her caustic wit; she still
was fond of aiming a shaft or two at him, and he was still equally ready
to let the shaft glance harmlessly against the flawless shield of his
own imperturbable good humour, but now, contrary to all precedent, to
all usages and customs of London society, Marguerite seldom was seen at
routs or at the opera without her husband; she accompanied him to all
the races, and even one night--oh horror!--had danced the gavotte with
him.

Society shuddered and wondered! tried to put Lady Blakeney's sudden
infatuation down to foreign eccentricity, and finally consoled itself
with the thought that after all this nonsense could not last, and that
she was too clever a woman and he too perfect a gentleman to keep up
this abnormal state of things for any length of time.

In the meanwhile, the ladies averred that this matrimonial love was a
very one-sided affair. No one could assert that Sir Percy was anything
but politely indifferent to his wife's obvious attentions. His lazy eyes
never once lighted up when she entered a ball-room, and there were those
who knew for a fact that her ladyship spent many lonely days in her
beautiful home at Richmond whilst her lord and master absented himself
with persistent if unchivalrous regularity.

His presence at the Gala had been a surprise to everyone, for all
thought him still away, fishing in Scotland or shooting in Yorkshire,
anywhere save close to the apron strings of his doting wife. He himself
seemed conscious of the fact that he had not been expected at this
end-of-summer fete, for as he strolled forward to meet his wife and
Juliette Marny, and acknowledge with a bow here and a nod there the many
greetings from subordinates and friends, there was quite an apologetic
air about his good-looking face, and an obvious shyness in his smile.

But Marguerite gave a happy little laugh when she saw him coming towards
her.

"Oh, Sir P