fiancee_ from the beginning; the money to envy, and the
arrogance to chastisement. Why not? What is society but a discipline?

As for Roger, who is it says there is a little polygamy in all men?
Anyway, a man can always--nearly always--keep a corner for the old love,
if the new love will let him. Roger could, at any rate; "though he is a
model husband, far better than she deserves, and anybody not a fool
could manage him."

* * * * *

It was a day of physical delight, especially for riders. After a warm
October, the leaves were still thick on the trees; Nature had not yet
resigned herself to death and sleep. Here and there an oak stood, fully
green, among the tawny reds and golds of a flaming woodland. The gorse
was yellow on the commons; and in the damp woody ways through which
Chloe passed, a few primroses--frail, unseasonable blooms--pushed their
pale heads through the moss. The scent of the beech-leaves under foot;
the buffeting of a westerly wind; the pleasant yielding of her light
frame to the movement of the horse; the glimpses of plain that every
here and there showed themselves through the trees that girdled the high
ground or edge along which she rode; the white steam-wreath of a train
passing, far away, through strata of blue or pearly mist; an old
windmill black in the middle distance; villages, sheltering among their
hedges and uplands: a sky, of shadow below widely brooding over earth,
and of a radiant blue flecked with white cloud above:--all the English
familiar scene, awoke in Chloe Fairmile a familiar sensuous joy. Life
was so good--every minute, every ounce of it!--from the Duchess's _chef_
to these ethereal splendours of autumn--from the warm bath, the
luxurious bed, and breakfast, she had but lately enjoyed, to these
artistic memories that ran through her brain, as she glanced from side
to side, reminded now of Turner, now of DeWint, revelling in the
complexity of her own being. Her conscience gave her no trouble; it had
never been more friendly. Her husband and she had come to an
understanding; they were in truth more than quits. There was to be no
divorce--and no scandal. She would be very prudent. A man's face rose
before her that was not the face of her husband, and she
smiled--indulgently. Yes, life would be interesting when she returned to
town. She had taken a house in Chester Square from the New Year; and Tom
was going to Teheran. Meanwhile, she was passing t