hat Adela had said might be
very true, but why should he regard Sir Henry's happiness? why regard
any man's happiness, or any woman's? Who had regarded him? So he
hired a horse, and rode in the Park when he knew Lady Harcourt would
be there, dined with Baron Brawl because Lady Harcourt was to dine
there, and went to a ball at Mrs. Madden's for the same reason. All
which the solicitor-general now saw, and did not press his friend to
take a part at any more of his little dinners.

What may have passed on the subject between Sir Henry and his wife
cannot be said. A man does not willingly accuse his wife of even the
first germ of infidelity; does not willingly suggest to her that
any one is of more moment to her than himself. It is probable that
his brow became blacker than it had been, that his words were less
courteous, and his manner less kind; but of Bertram himself, it may
be presumed that he said nothing. It might, however, have been easy
for Caroline to perceive that he no longer wished to have his old
friend at his house.

At Mrs. Madden's ball, Bertram asked her to dance with him, and
she did stand up for a quadrille. Mr. Madden was a rich young man,
in Parliament, and an intimate friend both of Sir Henry's and of
Bertram's. Caroline had danced with him--being her first performance
of that nature since her marriage; and having done so, she could not,
as she said to herself, refuse Mr. Bertram. So they stood up; and the
busy solicitor-general, who showed himself for five minutes in the
room, saw them moving, hand-in-hand together, in the figure of the
dance. And as he so moved, Bertram himself could hardly believe in
the reality of his position. What if any one had prophesied to him
three months since that he would be dancing with Caroline Harcourt!

"Adela did not stay with you long," said he, as they were standing
still.

"No, not very long. I do not think she is fond of London;" and then
they were again silent till their turn for dancing was over.

"No; I don't think she is," said Bertram, "nor am I. I should not
care if I were to leave it for ever. Do you like London, Lady
Harcourt?"

"Oh, yes; as well as any other place. I don't think it much
signifies--London, or Littlebath, or New Zealand."

They were then both silent for a moment, till Bertram again spoke,
with an effort that was evident in his voice.

"You used not to be so indifferent in such matters."

"Used!"

"Has all the world so changed