r of heavy curtains and gleamed upon the white
face of a young man who had joined the ranks of those that proclaim the
world their conqueror.

VII

Crowned with One Crest

(Published in _Vanity Fair_, London, in 1895)

People were beginning to wonder if an American, having captured a title
and worn it for five years, would renounce it for mere good looks and
brains; in other words, if Lady Carnath, formerly Miss Edith Ingoldsby,
of Washington, and still earlier--before her father had found leisure to
crown a triumphant financial career with the patriotic labors of a
United States Senator--of Boone, Iowa, would marry Butler Hedworth,
M.P., a gentleman of some fortune and irreproachable lineage who had
already made himself known on the floor of the House, but was not so
much as heir-presumptive to a title. So many American maidens had
placidly stood by while their mammas "arranged" a marriage between their
gold-banked selves and the impecunious scion of an historical house,
that the English, when forced to admit them well-bred, found solace in
the belief that these disgustingly rich and handsome girls were without
heart.

Nevertheless, Lady Carnath, who had worn her weeds but a year, permitted
Butler Hedworth to pay her attentions so pronounced that her world was
mildly betting on his possible acceptance as husband or lover. It was
argued that during the life of Lord Carnath his wife's demeanor had been
above comment, but a cynic remarked that women had all sorts of odd
ideals; and was widely quoted.

Edith Ingoldsby had bought her Earl and paid a high price for him;
nevertheless she had liked him better than any man but one that she had
ever known, and they had been the best of friends. When she met him she
was in the agonies of her only passion, and had clutched the first
opportunity to bury alive the love that was destroying her beauty and
her interest in life.

The passion had lingered for a time, then gone the way of all passions
unfed by a monotonous environment and too much leisure. She found it
very interesting to be an English countess. For a while she had the
impression of playing a part in a modern historical drama; but before
long she realized, with true American adaptability, that her new life
was but the living chapters of a book whose earlier parts had been
serial instalments of retiring memory. Her great wealth, her beauty, her
piquant dashing thoroughbred manner, her husband's popularity