e persons represented on the base of the monument, and had
done so after some fashion of his own that had infinitely amused not
only Lady George but her father also. "You ought to be appointed Guide
to the Memorial," said the Dean.

"If Lady George will give me a testimonial no doubt I might get it,
Dean," said Jack.

"I don't think you know anything about any of them," said Lady George.
"I'm sure you've told me wrong about two. You're the last man in the
world that ought to be a guide to anything."

"Will you come and be guide, and I'll just sweep the steps!"

Lord George heard the last words, and allowed himself to be annoyed at
them, though he felt them to be innocent. He knew that his wife was
having a game of pleasant play, like a child with a pleasant
play-fellow. But then he was not satisfied that his wife should play
like a child,--and certainly not with such a playfellow. He doubted
whether his wife ought to allow playful intimacy from any man. Marriage
was to him a very serious thing. Was he not prepared to give up a real
passion because he had made this other woman his wife? In thinking over
all this his mind was not very logical, but he did feel that he was
justified in exacting particularly strict conduct from her because he
was going to make Mrs. Houghton understand that they two, though they
loved each other, must part. If he could sacrifice so much for his
wife, surely she might sacrifice something for him.

They returned altogether to Hyde Park Corner and then they separated.
Jack went away towards Berkeley Square with his cousin; the Dean got
himself taken in a cab to his club; and Lord George walked his wife
down Constitution Hill towards their own home. He felt it to be
necessary that he should say something to his wife; but, at the same
time, was specially anxious that he should give her no cause to suspect
him of jealousy. Nor was he jealous, in the ordinary sense of the word.
He did not suppose for a moment that his wife was in love with Jack De
Baron, or Jack with his wife. But he did think that whereas she had
very little to say to her own husband she had a great deal to say to
Jack. And he was sensible, also, of a certain unbecomingness in such
amusement on her part. She had to struggle upwards, so as to be able to
sustain properly the position and dignity of Lady George Germain, and
the possible dignity of the Marchioness of Brotherton. She ought not to
want playfellows. If she would real