"

"To claim you?"

"Yes; I'd forgotten him entirely. I promised to waltz with him an hour
ago."

"What the devil brought you here to interrupt us?" thought Falkenstein,
as the Guardsman lisped a reproof at Valerie's cruelty, and gave her his
arm back to the ball-room. Waldemar stopped her, however, engaged her
for the next, and sauntered through the room on her other side. He
waltzed a good deal with her, paying her that sort of attention which
Falkenstein knew how to make the softest and subtlest homage a woman
could have. Amused himself, he amused her with his brilliant and pointed
wit, so well, that Valerie L'Estrange told him, when he bid her good
night, that she had never enjoyed any birthday so much.

"Well," said Bevan, as they drove away from 133, Lowndes Square, "did
you find that wonderful little L'Estrange as charming a companion as
actress? You ought to know, for you've been after her all night, like a
ferret after a rabbit."

"Yes," said Falkenstein, taking out a little pet briarwood pipe, "I was
very pleased with her: she's worth no more than the others, probably, au
fond, but she's very entertaining and frank: she'll tell you anything.
Poor child! she can't be over-comfortable in Cash's house. She's a lady
by instinct; that odious ostentation and snobbish toadying must disgust
her. Besides, Bella is not very likely to lead a girl a very nice life
who is partially dependent on her father, and infinitely better style
than herself."

"The devil, no! That flaunting, flirting, over-dressed Cashranger girl
is my detestation. She'll soon find means to worry littil Valerie. Women
have a great spice of the mosquito in 'em, and enjoy nothing more than
stinging each other to death."

"Well, she must get Forester or D'Orwood--some man who can afford it--to
take compassion upon her. All of them finish so when they can; the rich
ones marry for a title, and the poor ones for a home," said the Count,
stirring up his pipe. "Here's my number; thank you for dropping me; and
good night, old fellow."

"Good night. Pleasant dreams of your author and actress, _aux longs yeux
bleus_."

Waldemar laughed as he took out his latch-key. "I'm afraid I couldn't
get up so much romance. You and I have done with all that, Tom. Confound
it, I never saw Godolphin, after all. Well, I must go and breakfast with
him to-morrow."

II.

FALKENSTEIN BREAKS LANCES WITH THE "LONGS YEUX BLEUS."

He did breakfast with Godolph