cratic head from the top of the spinal column, and not a word, not
a look; the half-turn of a head devoid of mouth and eyes! She practised
that forbidding checkbow herself to perfection, so the endurance of it
was horrible. A noli me tangere, her husband termed it, in his ridiculous
equanimity; and he might term it what he pleased--it was insulting. The
solace she had was in hearing that hideous Radical Revolutionary
things were openly spoken at Mrs. Warwick's evenings with her
friends:--impudently named 'the elect of London.' Pleasing to reflect
upon Mrs. Warwick as undermining her supporters, to bring them some day
down with a crash! Her 'elect of London' were a queer gathering, by
report of them! And Mr. Whitmonby too, no doubt a celebrity, was the
right-hand man at these dinner-parties of Mrs. Warwick. Where will not
men go to be flattered by a pretty woman! He had declined repeated,
successive invitations to Lady Wathin's table. But there of course he
would not have had 'the freedom': that is, she rejoiced in thinking
defensively and offensively, a moral wall enclosed her topics. The Hon.
Percy Dacier had been brought to her Thursday afternoon by. Mr. Quintin
Manx, and he had one day dined with her; and he knew Mrs. Warwick--a
little, he said. The opportunity was not lost to convey to him, entirely
in the interest of sweet Constance Asper, that the moral world
entertained a settled view of the very clever woman Mrs. Warwick
certainly was. He had asked Diana, on their morning walk to the station,
whether she had an enemy: so prone are men, educated by the Drama and
Fiction in the belief that the garden of civilized life must be at the
mercy of the old wild devourers, to fancy 'villain whispers' an
indication of direct animosity. Lady Wathin had no sentiment of the kind.

But she had become acquainted with the other side of the famous
Dannisburgh case--the unfortunate plaintiff; and compassion as well as
morality moved her to put on a speaking air when Mr. Warwick's name was
mentioned. She pictured him to the ladies of her circle as 'one of our
true gentlemen in his deportment and his feelings.' He was, she would
venture to say, her ideal of an English gentleman. 'But now,' she added
commiseratingly, 'ruined; ruined in his health and in his prospects.' A
lady inquired if it was the verdict that had thus affected him. Lady
Wathin's answer was reported over moral, or substratum, London: 'He is
the victim of a fatal pass