delicate expedient possible.

"Long engagements are a great mistake," she told Marcia,--then, in a
warning undertone she added, "Men are capricious nowadays,--they're all
so much in demand,--better take Masherville while he's in the humor."

Marcia accepted this hint and took him,--and Mrs. Rush-Marvelle heaved a
sigh of relief when she saw the twain safely married, and off to the
Continent on their honeymoon-trip,--Marcia all sparkling and
triumphant,--Lord Algy tremulous and feebly ecstatic.

"Thank Heaven _that's_ over!" she said to her polite and servile
husband. "I never had such a troublesome business in my life! That
girl's been nearly two seasons on my hands, and I think five hundred
guineas not a bit too much for all I've done."

"Not a bit--not a bit!" agreed Mr. Marvelle warmly. "Have they--have
they--" here he put on a most benevolent side-look--"quite settled with
you, my dear?"

"Every penny," replied Mrs. Marvelle calmly. "Old Van Clupp paid me the
last hundred this morning. And poor Mrs. Van Clupp is so _very_
grateful!" She sighed placidly, and appeared to meditate. Then she
smiled sweetly and, approaching Mr. Marvelle, patted his shoulder
caressingly. "I think we'll do the Italian lakes, dear--what do you
say?"

"Charming--charming!" declared, not her lord and master, but her slave
and vassal. "Nothing could be more delightful!"

And to the Italian lakes accordingly they went. A great many people were
out of town,--all who had leisure and money enough to liberate
themselves from the approaching evils of an English winter, had departed
or were departing,--Beau Lovelace had gone to Como,--George Lorimer had
returned with Duprez to Paris, and Thelma had very few visitors except
Lady Winsleigh, who was more often with her now than ever. In fact, her
ladyship was more like one of the Errington household than anything
else,--she came so frequently and stayed so long. She seemed sincerely
attached to Thelma,--and Thelma herself, too single-hearted and simple
to imagine that such affection could be feigned, gave her in return,
what Lady Winsleigh had never succeeded in winning from any woman,--a
pure, trusting, and utterly unsuspecting love, such as she would have
lavished on a twin-born sister. But there was one person who was not
deceived by Lady Winsleigh's charm of manner, and grace of speech. This
was Britta. Her keen eyes flashed a sort of unuttered defiance into her
ladyship's beautiful, dark la