by, with whom--as he told the company--he was
for a frolic at Drury Lane, where a ridotto was following the play. He
spoke, as usual, in a loud voice that all might hear, and his talk was
loose and heavily salted as became the talk of a rake of his exalted
rank. It was chiefly concerned with airing his bitter grievance against
Mrs. Girdlebank, of the Theatre Royal, of whom he announced himself
"devilishly enamoured."

He inveighed against her that she should have the gross vulgarity
to love her husband, and against her husband that he should have the
audacity to play the watchdog over her, and bark and growl at the duke's
approach.

"A plague on all husbands, say I," ended the worthy president of the
Bold Bucks.

"Nay, now, but I'm a husband myself, gad!" protested Mr. Sidney, who was
quite the most delicate, mincing man of fashion about town, and one of
that valetaille that hovered about his Grace of Wharton's heels.

"'Tis no matter in your case," said the duke, with that contempt he used
towards his followers. "Your wife's too ugly to be looked at." And Mr.
Sidney's fresh protest was drowned in the roar of laughter that went
up to applaud that brutal frankness. Mr. Caryll turned to the fop, who
happened to be standing at his elbow.

"Never repine, man," said he. "In the company you keep, such a wife
makes for peace of mind. To have that is to have much."

Wharton resumed his railings at the Girdlebanks, and was still at them
when Rotherby came in.

"At last, Charles!" the duke hailed him, rising. "Another minute, and I
had gone without you."

But Rotherby scarce looked at him, and answered with unwonted shortness.
His eyes had discovered Mr. Caryll. It was the first time he had run
against him since that day, over a week ago, at Stretton House, and at
sight of him now all Rotherby's spleen was moved. He stood and stared,
his dark eyes narrowing, his cheeks flushing slightly under their tan.
Wharton, who had approached him, observing his sudden halt, his sudden
look of concentration, asked him shortly what might ail him.

"I have seen someone I did not expect to find in a resort of gentlemen,"
said Rotherby, his eyes ever on Mr. Caryll, who--engrossed in his
game--was all unconscious of his lordship's advent.

Wharton followed the direction of his companion's gaze, and giving
now attention himself to Mr. Caryll, he fell to appraising his genteel
appearance, negligent of the insinuation in what Rotherby had