come with him. If he thought so she would go at once and leave
cards on Mrs. Ulford, whom she was longing to know.

Both notes went off by hand before lunch.

CHAPTER X

THE Ulfords accepted for the first. Lady Holme left cards on Mrs.
Leo and told her husband that the box was filled up. He received the
information with indifference. So long as his wife was there to please
Miss Schley, and Mr. Laycock to "give her a hand and show 'em all
whether she was popular," he was satisfied. Having gained his point,
he was once again in excellent humour. Possibly Lady Holme would have
appreciated his large gaieties more if she had not divined their cause.
But she expressed no dissatisfaction with them, and indeed increased
them by her own brilliant serenity during the days that intervened
between the Martha Brayley incident and the first night.

Lord Holme had no suspicion that during these days she was inwardly
debating whether she would go to the theatre or not.

It would be very easy to be unwell. She was going out incessantly and
could be over-fatigued. She could have woman's great stand-by in moments
of crisis--a bad attack of neuralgia. It was the simplest matter in the
world. The only question was--all things considered, was it worth while?
By "all things considered" she meant Leo Ulford. The touch of Fritz in
him made him a valuable ally at this moment. Fritz and Miss Schley were
not going to have things quite all their own way. And then Mrs. Leo! She
would put Fritz next the ear-trumpet. She had enough sense of humour to
smile to herself at the thought of him there. On the whole, she fancied
the neuralgia would not attack her at the critical instant.

Only when she thought of what her husband had said about the American's
desire for her presence did she hesitate again. Her suspicions were
aroused. Miss Schley was not anxious that she should be conspicuously
in the theatre merely because she was the smartest woman in London. That
was certain. Besides, she was not the smartest woman in London. She was
far too well-born to be that in these great days of the _demi-mondaine_.
She remembered Robin Pierce's warning at the Arkell House
ball--"Consider yourselves enemies for no reasons or secret woman's
reasons. It's safer."

When do women want the bulky, solid reasons obtusely demanded by men
before they can be enemies? Where man insists on an insult, a blow, they
will be satisfied with a look--perhaps not even at the