refrained--but Neville's behavior puzzled her all the
same. When they left town, he implored, almost piteously, to be allowed
to remain behind,--he could attend to Sir Philip's business so much
better in London, he declared, and he had his way. Errington, usually
fond of Neville's society, made no attempt whatever to persuade him
against his will,--so he stayed in the half-shut-up house in Prince's
Gate through all the summer heat, poring over parliamentary documents
and pamphlets,--and Philip came up from the country once a fortnight to
visit him, and transact any business that might require his personal
attention.

On one of the last and hottest days in August, a grand garden-party was
given at the Manor. All the county people were invited, and they came
eagerly, though, before Thelma's social successes in London, they had
been reluctant to meet her. Now, they put on their best clothes, and
precipitated themselves into the Manor grounds like a flock of sheep
seeking land on which to graze,--all wearing their sweetest propitiatory
smirk--all gushing forth their admiration of "that _darling_ Lady
Errington"--all behaving themselves in the exceptionally funny manner
that county people affect,--people who are considered somebodies in the
small villages their big houses dominate,--but who, when brought to
reside in London, become less than the minnows in a vast ocean. These
good folks were not only anxious to _see_ Lady Errington--they wanted to
_say_ they had seen her,--and that she had spoken to _them_, so that
they might, in talking to their neighbors, mention it in quite an easy,
casual way, such as--"Oh, I was at Errington Manor the other day, and
Lady Errington said to me--." Or--"Sir Philip is _such_ a charming man!
I was talking to his lovely wife, and he asked me--" etc., etc.
Or--"You've no idea what large strawberries they grow at the Manor! Lady
Errington showed me some that were just ripening--magnificent!" And so
on. For in truth this _is_ "a mad world, my masters,"--and there is no
accounting for the inexpressibly small follies and mean toadyisms of the
people in it.

Moreover, all the London guests who were visiting Thelma came in for a
share of the county magnates' servile admiration. They found the
Winsleighs "so distingue"--Master Ernest instantly became "that _dear_
boy!"--Beau Lovelace was "so dreadfully clever, you know!"--and Pierre
Duprez "quite _too_ delightful!"

The grounds looked very brillia