one
blow, a formerly spotless reputation--and "really--really!" said the
Upper Ten, "it was dreadful, but of course it was to be expected! Those
quiet, seemingly virtuous persons are always the worst when you come to
know them, yet who would have thought it!" And society read the
assailing paragraph, and rolled it in its rank mouth, like a bon-bon,
enjoying its flavor. It ran as follows:--

"We hear on excellent authority that the Norwegian 'beauty,' Lady
Bruce-Errington, wife of Sir Philip Bruce-Errington, is about to sue for
a divorce on the ground of infidelity. The offending dama in the
question is an admired actress, well-known to the frequenters of the
Brilliant Theatre. But there are always two sides to these affairs, and
it is rumored that the fair Norwegian (who before her marriage, we
understand, was a great adept in the art of milking reindeer on the
shores of her native Fjord) has private reasons of her own for desiring
the divorce, not altogether in keeping with her stated reasons or her
apparent reserve. We are, however, always on the side of the fair sex,
and, as the faithless husband has made no secret of his new liaison, we
do not hesitate to at once pronounce in the lady's favor. The case is
likely to prove interesting to believers in wedded happiness, combined
with the strictest moral and religious sentiments."

Quite by accident this piece of would-be "smartness" was seen by Beau
Lovelace. He had a wholesome contempt for the _Snake_--and all its
class,--he would never have looked at it, or known of the paragraph, had
not a friend of his at the Garrick pointed it out to him with half a
smile and half a sneer.

"It's a damned lie!" said Beau briefly.

"That remains to be proved!" answered his friend, and went away
laughing.

Beau read it over and over again, his blood firing with honest
indignation. Thelma! Thelma--that pure white lily of womanhood,--was she
to have her stainless life blurred by the trail of such a thing as the
_Snake_?--and was Errington's honor to be attainted in his absence, and
he condemned without a word uttered in his defence?

"Detestable blackguard!" muttered Lovelace, reverting in his mind to the
editor of the journal in question. "What's his name I wonder?" He
searched and found it at the top of a column-"Sole Editor and
Proprietor, C. Snawley-Grubbs, to whom all checks and post-office orders
should be made payable. The Editor cannot be responsible for the return
of