ngs made too easy for him. He was
all aflame accordingly to gain the _entree_ thus withheld, and when the
Contessa appeared for the first time in the Park, with her lovely
companion, Montjoie was eagerly on the watch, and lost no time in
claiming acquaintance, and joining himself to her train. He was one of
the two who were received to luncheon two or three days afterwards. When
the ladies went to the opera he was on thorns till he could join them.
He was allowed to go home with them for one song, and to come in next
afternoon for a little music. And from that time forward there was no
more question of shutting him out. He came and went almost when he
pleased, as a young man may be permitted to do when he has become one of
the intimates in an easy-going, pleasure-loving household, where there
is always "something going on." He was so little flattered that never
during all these days and nights had he once been allowed to repeat the
performance upon which he prided himself, and with which he had followed
up the singing of the Contessa and Bice at the Hall. The admirable lady
whom they had met there, with her two daughters, had been eager that
Lord Montjoie should display this accomplishment of his, and the girls
had been enchanted by his singing; but the Contessa, though not so
irreproachable, would have none of it. And Bice laughed freely at the
young nobleman who had so much to bestow, and they both threw at him
delicate little shafts of wit, which never pierced his stolid
complacency, though he was quite quick withal to see the fun when other
gentlemen looked at each other over the Contessa's shoulder, and burst
into little peals of laughter at her little speeches about the Highton
Grandmodes and other such exclusive houses. Montjoie knew all about La
Forno-Populo. "But yet that little Bice," he said, "don't you know?" No
one like her had come within Montjoie's ken. He knew all about the girls
in blue or in pink or in white, who asked him to sing. But Bice, who
laughed at his accomplishment and at himself, and was so saucy to him,
and made fun of him, he allowed, to his face, that was very different.
He described her in terms that were not chivalrous, and his own emotions
in words still less ornate; but before the fortnight was over the best
judges declared among themselves that, by Jove, the Forno-Populo had
done it this time, that the little one knew how to play her cards, that
it was all up with Montjoie, poor little