on her hand, and gazing on the
fire, surrendered herself to the sterner and more plotting meditations
which her return to the circle of her old ambition had at first called
forth.

Meanwhile Godolphin sauntered into the then arch-club of St. James's,
that reservoir of idle exquisites and kid-gloved politicians. There
are two classes of popular men in London; the sprightly, joyous,
good-humoured set; the quiet, gentle, sarcastic herd. The one are
fellows called devilish good--the other, fellows called devilish
gentleman like. To the latter class belonged Godolphin. As he had never
written a book, nor set up for a genius, his cleverness was tacitly
allowed to be no impediment to his good qualities. Nothing atones for
the sin, in the eyes of those young gentlemen who create for their
contemporaries reputation, of having in any way distinguished oneself.
"He's such a d--d bore, that man with his books and poetry," said an
arch-dandy of Byron, just after Childe Harold had turned the heads
of the women. There happened to be a knot assembled at White's when
Godolphin entered; they welcomed him affectionately.

"Wish you joy, old fellow," said one. "Bless me, Godolphin! well, I am
delighted to see you," cried another. "So, you have monopolised Lady
Erpingham!--lucky dog!" whispered a third.

Godolphin, his vanity soothed by the reception he met with, spent his
evening at the Club. The habit begun, became easy--Godolphin spent many
evenings at his club. Constance, running the round of her acquaintance,
was too proud to complain. Perhaps complaint would not have mended the
matter: but one word of delicate tenderness, or one look that asked for
his society, and White's would have been forsaken! Godolphin secretly
resented the very evenness of temper he had once almost overprized.

"Oh, Godolphin," one evening whispered a young lord, "we sup at the
little actress's,--the Millinger; you remember the Millinger? You must
come; you are an old favourite, you know: she'll be so glad to
see you,--all innocent, by the way: Lady Erpingham need not be
jealous--(jealous! Constance jealous of Fanny Millinger!) all innocent.
Come, I'll drive you there; my cab is at the door."

"Anything better than a lecture on ambition," thought Godolphin; and
he consented. Godolphin's friend was a lively young nobleman, of that
good-natured, easy, uncaptious temper, which a clever, susceptible,
indolent man often likes better than comrades more intellect