here is no need to indicate the precise
moment at which the figure of her humble village admirer faded clean out
of sight after having hovered reproachfully over a few brief penitential
musings, but certain it is that it vanished, to return no more.

London in the season was a revelation to our heroine. Hitherto her sole
experience of it was confined to passing through, and that mainly at
other periods of the year,--since it was an article of faith with her
husband that one big town was as good as another, and he had all he
wanted of town life at home.

So that all was new, strange, wonderful, glorious--and at first she was
utterly dazzled. True, a modern girl would have laughed in her sleeve
could she have heard Leo's idea of the gay world. She would have said
this unsophisticated creature went nowhere and knew nothing. She would
have marvelled--perhaps as much as Leo would have marvelled at her.

Leo did more than marvel, she was secretly shocked and disgusted on
several occasions, but with the fidelity of the young to the young she
said nothing to Sue. Sue thought the houses she took her young sister to
all that was prudent and respectable. Some of them were rather great
houses--the Bolderos, when they did seek society, moved on a high plane,
and the very fact that they seldom sought it, told in their favour.

The sisters were not overwhelmed with invitations, but they had enough
to gratify the elder and delight the younger. Leo did not dance; indeed,
she did not know how, so the one ball to which she was bidden was
declined, but the two went to a fair amount of dinner-parties, not of
the most lively order, but pictorial and majestic. They were invited to
opera boxes--generally on the grand tier. Leo was on the box seat of a
coach occasionally. As for teas, they overran every afternoon, and
concerts, bazaars, charity entertainments, Hurlingham and Ranelagh
filled up the interstices.

It was in short a giddy round, and perhaps as good a cure for the sort
of complaint from which our poor little girl was suffering as could have
been devised.

It swept her off her feet--and in another sense swept her on to her
feet.

She learned in curious ways a good deal.

Her shell was broken, and albeit the outer air was none of the purest,
it served its purpose of blowing away the cobwebs that had so long
encircled her outlook.

July, however, was passing, and soon, all too soon, fairy-land would
vanish in a myriad of sha