m but only at the
skirt of their gown--with a turn of the head, with nothing at all. For
what a man calls nothing can be the world and all that there is in it
to a woman. Lady Holme knew that she and the American had been enemies
since the moment when the latter had moved with the tiny steps that
so oddly caricatured her own individual walk down the stairs at the
Carlton. She wanted no tiresome reasons; nor did Miss Schley. Robin was
right, of course. He understood women. But then--?

Should she go to the theatre?

The night came and she went. Whether an extraordinary white lace gown,
which arrived from Paris in the morning, and fitted too perfectly for
words, had anything to do with the eventual decision was not known to
anybody but herself.

Boxes are no longer popular in London except at the Opera. The British
Theatre was new, and the management, recognising that people prefer
stalls, had given up all the available space to them, and only left room
for two large boxes, which faced each other on a level with the dress
circle and next the stage. Lord Holme had one. Mrs. Wolfstein had taken
the other.

Miss Schley's personal success in London brought together a rather
special audience. There were some of the usual people who go to first
nights--critics, ladies who describe dresses, fashionable lawyers and
doctors. But there were also numbers of people who are scarcely ever
seen on these occasions, people who may be found in the ground and grand
tier boxes at Covent Garden during the summer season. These thronged the
stalls, and every one of them was a dear friend of Lady Holme's.
Among them were Lady Cardington, Lady Manby, Sally Perceval with her
magnificently handsome and semi-idiotic husband, old Lady Blower, in a
green cap that suggested the bathing season, Robin Pierce and Mr. Bry.
Smart Americans were scattered all over the house. Most of them had
already seen the play in New York during the preceding winter, and
nearly everyone in the stalls had seen the French original in Paris. The
French piece had been quite shocking and quite delicious. Every Royalty
_de passage_ in Paris had been to see it, and one wandering monarch
had gone three nights running, and had laughed until his
gentleman-in-waiting thought the heir to his throne was likely to
succeed much sooner than was generally expected.

The Holmes came in early. Lady Holme hated arriving anywhere early, but
Lord Holme was in such a prodigious fuss about