e, with fresh hopes and fresh chances before her, she had but one
wish with regard to that Parisian episode of her life,--to forget it as
though it had never been.

She hoped, and, as time went on, she felt sure, that she would never see
Monsieur D'Arblet again. New hopes and new excitements occupied her
thoughts. The man to whom in her youth she had given her heart once more
came across her life; she was thrown very much into his society; she
learnt to love him more devotedly than ever, and when at last she had
succeeded in establishing the sort of engagement which existed between
them, she had assured him, and also assured herself, that no other man
had ever, for one instant, filled her fancy. That stormy chapter of her
married life was forgotten; she resolutely wiped it out of her memory, as
if it had never existed.

And now, after all this time--it was five years ago--she had met him
again--this Frenchman, who had once compromised her name, and who now had
possession of her letters.

There was a cruel irony of fate in the fact that she should be destined
to meet him again at Lady Kynaston's, the very house of all others where
she would least have wished to see him.

There was, however, had she thought of it, nothing at all extraordinary
in her having done so. No house in all London society was so open to
foreigners as Walpole Lodge, and Monsieur Le Vicomte D'Arblet was no
unknown upstart; he bore a good old name; he was clever, had taken an
active part in diplomatic life, and was a very well-known individual in
Parisian society. He had been brought to Lady Kynaston's by a member of
the French Embassy, who was a frequenter of her soirees.

Neither, however, was meeting with Mrs. Romer entirely accidental on
Monsieur D'Arblet's part. He had never forgotten the pretty Englishwoman
who had so foolishly and recklessly placed herself in his power.

It is true he had lost sight of her, and other intrigues and other
pursuits had filled his leisure hours; but when he came to England he had
thought of her again, and had made a few careless inquiries after her. It
was not difficult to identify her; the Mrs. Romer who was now a widow,
who lived with her rich grandfather, who was very old, who would probably
soon die and leave her all his wealth, was evidently the same Mrs. Romer
whom he had known. The friend who gave him the information spoke of her
as lovely and _spirituelle_, and as a woman who would be worth marrying
s