ng into existence since the downfall of Napoleon I., and was in some
degree the outcome of the part played by Great Britain in the comedy of
the Bourbon and Orleanist collapse. Captain Duncan had retired from
the army, changing career from one of a chartered to an unchartered
uselessness, and he herded with tarnished aristocracy and half-pay
failures in the smoking-rooms of Continental clubs.

Miriam returned, after a short experience of this world, to Farlingford,
as to the better part. At first she accepted invitations to some of
the country houses open to her by her connection with certain great
families. But after a time she seemed to fall under the spell of that
quiet life which is still understood and lived in a few remote places.

"What can you find to do all day and to think about at night at that
bleak corner of England?" inquired her friends, themselves restless by
day and sleepless by night by reason of the heat of their pursuit of
that which is called pleasure.

"If he wants to marry his cook let him do it and be done with us," wrote
her mother from the south of France. "Come and join us at Biarritz. The
Prince President will be here this winter. We shall be very gay.... P.S.
We shall not ask you to stay with us as we are hard up this quarter; but
to share expenses. Mind come."

But Miriam remained at Farlingford, and there is nothing to be gained by
seeking to define her motive. There are two arguments against seeking
a woman's motive. Firstly, she probably has none. Secondly, should she
have one she will certainly have a counterfeit, which she will dangle
before your eyes, and you will seize it.

Dormer Colville might almost be considered to belong to the world of
which Captain and Mrs. Duncan were such brilliant ornaments. But he
did not so consider himself. For their world was essentially British,
savoured here and there by a French count or so, at whose person and
title the French aristocracy of undoubted genuineness looked askance.
Dormer Colville counted his friends among these latter. In fact, he
moved in those royalist circles who thought that there was little to
choose between the Napoleonic and the Orleanist regime. He carefully
avoided intimacy with Englishmen whose residence in foreign parts was
continuous and in constant need of explanation. Indeed, if a man's life
needs explanation, he must sooner or later find himself face to face
with some one who will not listen to him.

Colville, how