venturers nearly all his life. Alfred Gayerson, her
brother and my earliest friend, was now in Vienna. Isabella had no one
to advise her. She was, I suppose, a forerunner of the advanced young
women of to-day, who, with a diminutive knowledge of the world culled
from the imaginative writings of females as ignorant, are pleased to
consider themselves competent to steer a clean course over the shoals
of life.

Isabella had had, as I understood, a certain experience of the
ordinary fortune-hunters of society--pleasant enough fellows, no
doubt, but lacking self-respect and manhood--and it seemed
extraordinary that her eyes should be closed to Mr. Devar's manifold
qualifications to the title.

"Perhaps," she said at length, "you also will do us the pleasure of
dining with us on Thursday, as you appear to be so deeply interested
in Mr. Devar despite your assurances to the contrary."

"I shall be most happy to do so," answered I--ungraciously, I
fear--and there arose a sudden light, almost of triumph, to her
usually repressed glance.

Alphonse Giraud acceded to my suggestion that he should walk with me
towards my club. His manner towards me had been reserved and
unnatural, and I wished to get to the bottom of his feeling in respect
to one whom he had always treated as a friend. Isabella was the only
person to suggest an objection to my proposal, reminding Alphonse,
rather pointedly, that he had but time to dress for dinner.

"Well," I said, when we were turning into Piccadilly, "Miste has begun
to give us a scent at last."

"It is not so much in Monsieur Miste as in the money that I am
interested," answered Giraud, swinging his cane, and looking about him
with a simulated interest in his surroundings.

"Ah!"

"Yes; and I am beginning to be convinced that I shall never see
either."

"Indeed."

"Let us quit an unpleasant subject," said the Frenchman, after a
pause, and in the manner of one seeking to avoid an impending quarrel.
"What splendid horses you have in England! See that pair in the
victoria? one could not tell them apart. And what action!"

"Yes," I answered, lamely enough; "we have good enough horses."

And before I could return to the subject, which no longer drew us
together, but separated us, he dragged out his watch and hurriedly
turned back, leaving me with a foolish and inexplicable sense of
guilt.

Chapter XIX

Sport

"L'amour du mieux t'aura interdit le bien."

"Do I look as