d St. Petersburg did."

"London is always going mad about something or other, but the madness
never lasts long."

"I have read many things," continued his wife calmly, "but I have never
read anything like the description of the scene at the opera-house last
evening; it really made me long to see her."

"Then let the longing be gratified, by all means," said Lord Chandos.
"We will go this evening. Consider it settled, Marion, and do not think
of changing your plans."

It was breakfast-time, and the husband and wife were discussing the
advent of a new actress and singer--one who was setting the world on
fire--Madame Vanira. Lord and Lady Chandos always took breakfast
together; it was one of the established rules, never broken; it was the
only time in the day when they were quite sure of seeing each other.

It was three years since they were married, and time had not worked any
great change in either. Lady Chandos was even more beautiful than in her
maiden days. She had the same sweet repose of manner, the same high-bred
elegance and grace, the same soft, low voice, but the beauty of her face
had grown deeper.

There was more light in the blue eyes, a deeper sheen on the golden
hair, a richer tint on the fair face; there was more of life, animation,
and interest, than she had displayed in those days when she seemed to
glide through life like a spirit, rather than battle through it like a
human being. Perhaps for her the battle had to come. In figure she had
developed, she looked taller and more stately, but the same beautiful
lines and gracious curves were there. As she sits in her morning-dress,
the palest blue, trimmed with the most delicate cream color, a pretty,
coquettish cap on her golden head, the bloom and freshness of early
youth on her face, she looks the loveliest picture of lovely and
blooming womanhood, the perfection of elegance, the type of a patrician.
Her white hands are covered with shining gems--Lady Chandos has a taste
for rings. She is altogether a proper wife for a man to have to trust,
to place his life and honor in her, a wife to be esteemed, appreciated
and revered, but not worshiped with a mad passion. In the serene, pure
atmosphere in which she lived no passion could come, no madness; she did
not understand them, she never went out of the common grooves of life,
but she was most amiable and sweet in them.

Nor had Lord Chandos altered much in these three years; he had grown
handsomer, mor