--and there's the Duchess of St Bungay. Mr Palliser was
here five minutes since." Then Lady Monk was obliged to get to her
door again and Lady Glencora found herself standing close to Lady
Hartletop.

"We saw Mr Palliser just pass through," said Lady Hartletop, who was
able to meet and speak of the man who had dared to approach her with
his love, without the slightest nervousness.

"Yes; he said he should be here," said Lady Glencora.

"There's a great crowd," said Lady Hartletop. "I didn't think London
was so full."

"Very great." said Lady Glencora, and then they had said to each
other all that society required. Lady Glencora, as we know, could
talk with imprudent vehemence by the hour together if she liked her
companion; but the other lady seldom committed herself by more words
than she had uttered now,--unless it was to her tirewoman.

"How very well you are looking," said the Duchess. "And I heard you
had been so ill." Of that midnight escapade among the ruins it was
fated that Lady Glencora should never hear the last.

"How d'ye do, Lady Glencowrer?" sounded in her ear, and there was a
great red paw stuck out for her to take. But after what had passed
between Lady Glencora and her husband to-day about Mr Bott, she was
determined that she would not take Mr Bott's hand.

"How are you, Mr Bott?" she said. "I think I'll look for Mr Palliser
in the back room."

"Dear Lady Glencora," whispered the Duchess, in an ecstasy of agony.
Lady Glencora turned and bowed her head to her stout friend. "Do let
me go away with you. There's that woman, Mrs Conway Sparkes, coming,
and you know how I hate her." She had nothing to do but to take the
Duchess under her wing, and they passed into the large room together.
It is, I think, more than probable that Mrs Conway Sparkes had been
brought in by Lady Monk as the only way of removing the Duchess from
her stool.

Just within the dancing-room Lady Glencora found her husband,
standing in a corner, looking as though he were making calculations.

"I'm going away," said he, coming up to her. "I only just came
because I said I would. Shall you be late?"

"Oh, no; I suppose not."

"Shall you dance?"

"Perhaps once,--just to show that I'm not an old woman."

"Don't heat yourself. Good-bye." Then he went, and in the crush of
the doorway he passed Burgo Fitzgerald, whose eye was intently fixed
upon his wife. He looked at Burgo, and some thought of that young
man's former hopes