rarely at her house in town.

Once or twice he had appeared there, it is true, at my Lord
Dunstanwolde's instance, but my lady herself scarce seemed to see him
after her first courtesies as hostess were over.

"You never smiled on him, my love," Dunstanwolde said to his wife. "You
bore yourself towards him but cavalierly, as was your ladyship's way--with
all but one poor servant," tenderly; "but he was one of the many who
followed in your train, and if these gay young fellows stay away, 'twill
be said that I keep them at a distance because I am afraid of their youth
and gallantry. I would not have it fancied that I was so ungrateful as
to presume upon your goodness and not leave to you your freedom."

"Nor would I, my lord," she answered. "But he will not come often; I do
not love him well enough."

His marriage with the heiress who had wealth in the West Indies was
broken off, or rather 'twas said had come to naught. All the town knew
it, and wondered, and talked, because it had been believed at first that
the young lady was much enamoured of him, and that he would soon lead her
to the altar, the which his creditors had greatly rejoiced over as
promising them some hope that her fortune would pay their bills of which
they had been in despair. Later, however, gossip said that the heiress
had not been so tender as was thought; that, indeed, she had been found
to be in love with another man, and that even had she not, she had heard
such stories of Sir John as promised but little nuptial happiness for any
woman that took him to husband.

When my Lord Dunstanwolde brought his bride to town, and she soared at
once to splendid triumph and renown, inflaming every heart, and setting
every tongue at work, clamouring her praises, Sir John Oxon saw her from
afar in all the scenes of brilliant fashion she frequented and reigned
queen of. 'Twas from afar, it might be said, he saw her only, though he
was often near her, because she bore herself as if she did not observe
him, or as though he were a thing which did not exist. The first time
that she deigned to address him was upon an occasion when she found
herself standing so near him at an assembly that in the crowd she brushed
him with her robe. His blue eyes were fixed burningly upon her, and as
she brushed him he drew in a hard breath, which she hearing, turned
slowly and let her own eyes fall upon his face.

"You did not marry," she said.

"No, I did not marry," he