re
truth and honour the rule of life; forsaken wives pretending to think
their husbands models of fidelity; jovial creatures with ruin staring in
their faces; households divided and shamming union; almost everybody
living above his or her means; and the knowledge that nobody is any
better or any happier than his neighbour society's only fountain of
consolation.

Lady Lesbia's gowns and parasols had been admired, her engagement had
furnished an infinity of gossip, and the fact of Montesma's constant
attendance upon her had given zest to the situation, just that flavour
of peril and fatality which the soul of society loveth.

'Is she going to marry them both?' asked an ancient dowager of the
ever-young type.

'No, dear Lady Sevenoaks, she can only marry one, don't you know; but
the other is nice to go about with; and I believe it is the other she
really likes.'

'It is always the other that a woman likes,' answered the dowager; 'I am
madly in love with this Peruvian--no, I think you said Cuban--myself. I
wish some good-natured creature would present him to me. If you know
anybody who knows him, tell them to bring him to my next
afternoon--Saturday. But why does--_chose_--_machin_--Smithson allow
such a handsome hanger-on? After marriage I could understand that he
might not be able to help himself; but before marriage a man generally
has some kind of authority.'

The world wondered a little, just as Lady Sevenoaks wondered, at
Smithson's complacency in allowing a man so attractive as Montesma to be
so much in the society of his future wife, yet even the censorious could
but admit that the Cuban's manner offered no ground for offence. He
came to Goodwood 'on his own hook,' as society put it: and every man who
wears a decent coat and is not a welsher has a right to enjoy the
prettiest race-course in England. He spent a considerable part of the
day in Lesbia's company; but since she was the centre of a little crowd
all the time, there could be no offence in this. He was a stranger,
knowing very few people, and having nothing to do but to amuse himself.
Smithson was an old and familiar friend, and was in a measure bound to
give him hospitality.

Mr. Smithson had recognised that obligation, but in a somewhat sparing
manner. There were a dozen unoccupied bedchambers in the Park Lane
Renaissance villa; but Smithson did not invite his Cuban acquaintance to
shift his quarters from the Bristol to Park Lane. He was civil to D