hour
of genuine suffering, there would have been an end to Madeline's
hesitation. But beyond an occasional watchful glance at conversations in
which she might be figuring dramatically, and upon which she instantly
turned her back as soon as she was perceived, Mrs. Innes gave no sign
even of preoccupation. If she had bad half-hours, they occurred between
the teas and tennises, the picnics, riding-parties, luncheons, and other
entertainments, at which you could always count upon meeting her; and in
that case they must have been short. She looked extremely well, and
her admirable frocks gave an accent even to 'Birthday' functions at
Viceregal Lodge, which were quite hopelessly general. If any one
could have compelled a revelation of her mind, I think it would have
transpired that her anxieties about Capt. Valentine Drake and Mrs. Vesey
gave her no leisure for lesser ones. These for a few days had been keen
and indignant--Captain Drake had so far forgotten himself as to ride
with Mrs. Vesey twice since Mrs. Innes's arrival--and any display of
poverty of spirit was naturally impossible under the circumstances. The
moment was a critical one; Captain Drake seemed inclined to place her
in the category of old, unexacting friends--ladies who looked on and
smiled, content to give him tea on rainy days, and call him by his
Christian name, with perhaps the privilege of a tapping finger on his
shoulder, and an occasional order about a rickshaw. Mrs. Violet was not
an introspective person, or she might have discovered here that the most
stable part of her self-respect was her EXIGENCE with Captain Drake.

She found out quickly enough, however, that she did not mean to discard
it. She threw herself, therefore--her fine shoulders and arms, her
pretty clothes, her hilarity, her complexion, her eyelashes, and all
that appertained to her--into the critical task of making other men
believe, at Captain Drake's expense, that they were quite as fond of her
as he was. Mrs. Vesey took opposite measures, and the Club laid bets on
the result.

The Club was not prepossessed by Captain Drake. He said too little and
he implied too much. He had magnificent shoulders, which he bent a great
deal over secluded sofas, and a very languid interest in matters over
which ordinary men were enthusiastic. He seemed to believe that if he
smiled all the way across his face, he would damage a conventionality.
His clothes were unexceptionable, and he always did th