ble to give him some information. I don't think he
realized when you met that you were connected, did he?"

"No, not at all."

"A friend of mine and I were sitting by the fire, having said
good-night to the rest of the party--do you remember what a cold May
night it was? Antony came in and joined us. We all had admired you
so. I recollect this is one of the things he said: 'I met an
eighteenth-century marquise to-night.'"

"Yes, he called me that."

"He is so very hard to please. The ordinary women, like Babykins
and Cordelia Grenellen, don't understand his subtle wit. They are
generally in love with him, though. Cordelia was madly _eprise_ last
autumn; but he is as indifferent as possible, and does not trouble
himself about any of them. He is reported to have said once that it
had taken him five years to degrade himself sufficiently to be able
to enjoy the society of modern women. He is a wonderful cynic!"

"The Duke gave me to understand that no man of the world was ever
without some affair," I said.

"Well, I suppose it is true more or less, but Antony is always the
person who holds the cheek, hardly even complacently--generally with
perfect indifference. I have never known him, for years, put himself
out an inch for any woman."

I don't know why, but this conversation interested me deeply.

Just then some one came and joined us at the window, and Lady
Tilchester had to rise and talk with her other guests; but before she
moved off she put her hand on my arm and said, as if she had only then
remembered it:

"Oh, the housekeeper let me know just now that some soot had fallen in
your chimney. I do hope you won't mind sleeping in a tiny bedroom off
mine, just for to-night. We were so afraid the smell would keep you
awake. Your maid has moved your things."

Dear and kind lady! I will never forget your goodness to me nor cease
to love you.

* * * * *

It was pouring rain as we drove home next day.

Augustus and I only met as we were ready to get into the carriage. I
had breakfasted in my room.

His face was the color of putty, and he had that look in his eyes
which, I remember, long ago I used to say appeared as if he had not
had enough sleep. His expression was sulky and morose, and I was
thankful when at last we started.

The guests were catching all sorts of trains. There were casual
good-byes. Lady Tilchester was not down, and no one occupied
themselves much with any