the report that he loved Lady Agnes still, else he
would scarcely come and stay where she was. As for Pine's wife, she was
a washed-out creature, who had never really loved her cousin as people
had thought. And after all, why should she, since he was so poor,
especially when she was married to a millionaire with the looks of an
Eastern prince, and manners of quite an original nature, although these
were not quite conventional. Oh, yes, there was nothing in the scandal
that said Garvington had sold his sister to bolster up the family
property. Lady Agnes was quite happy, and her husband was a dear man,
who left her a great deal to her own devices--which he wouldn't have
done had he suspected the cousin; and who gave her pots of money to
spend. And what more could a sensible woman want?

In this way those in the drawing-room babbled, while Agnes stared into
the fire, bracing herself to encounter Lambert, who would surely arrive
within the next two or three days, and while Miss Greeby savagely
rebuked herself for having so foolishly intimated her departure. Then
the men straggled in from their wine, and bridge became the order of the
night with some, while others begged for music. After a song or so and
the execution of a Beethoven sonata, to which no one paid any attention,
a young lady gave a dance after the manner of Maud Allan, to which
everyone attended. Then came feats of strength, in which Miss Greeby
proved herself to be a female Sandow, and later a number of the guests
sojourned to the billiard-room to play. When they grew weary of that,
tobogganing down the broad staircase on trays was suggested and indulged
in amidst shrieks of laughter. Afterwards, those heated by this
horse-play strayed on to the terrace to breathe the fresh air, and flirt
in the moonlight. In fact, every conceivable way of passing the time was
taken advantage of by these very bored people, who scarcely knew how to
get through the long evening.

"They seem to be enjoying themselves, Freddy," said Lady Garvington to
her husband, when she drifted against him in the course of attending to
her guests. "I really think they find this jolly."

"I don't care a red copper what they find," retorted the little man, who
was looking worried, and not quite his usual self. "I wish the whole lot
would get out of the house. I'm sick of them."

"Ain't you well, Freddy? I knew that Patagonian soup was too rich for
you."

"Oh, the soup was all right--ripping