his
breath a malediction.

"To the devil with them!" he said, but the next moment advanced with a
somewhat mocking smile, which was scarce hidden by his elaborate bow
of ceremony to her ladyship.

"My Lady Betty Tantillion!" he exclaimed, "I did not look for such
fortune. 'Tis not necessary to hope your ladyship blooms in health.
'Tis an age since we met."

Since their rupture they had not spoken with each other, but my Lady
Betty had used her eyes well when she had beheld him even at a
distance, and his life she knew almost as well as if they had been
married and she a jealous consort.

But she stood a moment regarding him with an impertinent questioning
little stare, and then held up her quizzing-glass and uttered an
exclamation of sad surprise.

"Sir John Oxon!" she said. "How changed! how changed! Sure you have
been ill, Sir John, or have met with misfortunes."

To the vainest of men and the most galled--he who had been but a few
years gone the most lauded man beauty in the town, who had been sought,
flattered, adored--'twas a bitter little stab, though he knew well the
giver of the thrust. Yet he steeled himself to bow again, though his
eyes flashed.

"I have indeed been ill and in misfortune," he answered, sardonically.
"Can a man be in health and fortunate when your ladyship has ceased to
smile upon him?"

My Lady Betty courtesied with a languid air.

"Lord Charles," she said, with indifferent condescension, "Sir Harry,
you have _heard_ of this gentleman, though he was before your day. In
_his_--" (as though she recalled the past glories of some antiquated
beau) "you were still at the University."

Then as she passed to a divan to seat herself she whispered an aside to
Lord Charles, holding up her fan.

"The ruined dandy," she said, "who is mad for my Lady Dunstanwolde. Ask
him some question of his wife?"

Whereupon Lord Charles, who was willing enough to join in badgering a
man who had still good looks enough to prove a rival had he the humour,
turned with a patronising air of civility.

"My Lady Oxon is not with you?" he observed.

"There is none, your lordship," Sir John answered, and almost ground
his teeth, seeing the courteous insolence of the joke. "I am a single
man."

"Lud!" cried my Lady Betty, fanning with graceful indifference. "'Twas
said you were to marry a great fortune, and all were filled with envy.
What become, then, of the fair Mistress Isabel Beaton?"

"She returned to S