on't want to think my husband
mad," she observed pathetically to Weston Marchmont, himself one of the
brightest hopes of that party which Dick Benyon was understood to
consider in need of a future leader. Was that leader to be Quisante?
Manners, not genius, Amy declared to be the first essential. "And I
don't believe he's got genius," she added hopefully; that he had no
manners did not need demonstration to Marchmont, whose own were so
exquisite as to form a ready-make standard.

And it was not only Dick. Jimmy was as bad. Nobody valued Jimmy's
intellect, but every one had been prepared to repose securely on the
bedrock of his prejudices. He was as infatuated as his brother; Quisante
had swept away the prejudices. The brethren were united in an effort to
foist their man into every circle and every position where he seemed to
be least wanted; to this end they devoted time, their social reputation,
enthusiasm, and, as old Maria knew, hard money. They were triple-armed
in confidence. Jimmy met remonstrances with a quiet shrug; Dick had one
answer, always the same, given in the same way--a confident assertion,
limited and followed, an instant later, by one obvious condition,
seemingly not necessary to express. "You'll see, if he lives," he
replied invariably when people asked him what there was after all in Mr.
Quisante. Their friends could only wonder, asking plaintively what the
Duke thought of his brothers' proceedings. The Duke, however, made no
sign; making no sign ranked as a characteristic of the Duke's.

When Lady Richard discussed this situation with her friends the Gaston
girls, she gained hearty sympathy from Fanny, but from May no more than
a mocking half-sincere curiosity.

"Is it possible for a man to like both me and Mr. Quisante?" Lady
Richard asked. "And after all Dick does like me very much."

"Likes both his wife and Mr. Quisante! What a man for paradoxes!" May
murmured.

"Jimmy's worse if anything," the aggrieved wife went on. This remark was
levelled straight at Fanny; Jimmy being understood to like Fanny, a
parallel problem presented itself. Fanny recognized it but, not choosing
to acknowledge Jimmy's devotion, met it by referring to Marchmont's
openly professed inability to tolerate Quisante.

"I always go by Mr. Marchmont's judgment in a thing like that," she
said. "He's infallible."

"There's no need of infallibility, my dear," observed Lady Richard
irritably. "Ordinary common sense is quite