m in the cellars. I
went down on my knees to Mrs. Montacute Jones for a very old friend,
and she simply asked me whether I was mad." This was, of course,
romance; but, nevertheless, the crowd was great, and the anxiety to see
the Kappa-kappa universal.

By eleven the dancing had commenced. Everything had been arranged in
the strictest manner. Whatever dance might be going on was to be
brought to a summary close at twelve o'clock, and then the Kappa-kappa
was to be commenced. It had been found that the dance occupied exactly
forty minutes. When it was over the doors of the banquetting hall would
be opened. The Kappa-kappaites would then march into supper, and the
world at large would follow them.

Lady George, when she first entered the room, found a seat near the
hostess, and sat herself down, meaning to wait for the important
moment. She was a little flurried as she thought of various things.
There was the evil woman before her, already dancing. The evil woman
had nodded at her, and had then quickly turned away, determined not to
see that her greeting was rejected; and there was Augusta Mildmay
absolutely dancing with Jack De Baron, and looking as though she
enjoyed the fun. But to Mary there was something terrible in it all.
She had been so desirous to be happy,--to be gay,--to amuse herself,
and yet to be innocent. Her father's somewhat epicurean doctrines had
filled her mind completely. And what had hitherto come of it? Her
husband mistrusted her; and she at this moment certainly mistrusted him
most grievously. Could she fail to mistrust him? And she, absolutely
conscious of purity, had been so grievously suspected! As she looked
round on the dresses and diamonds, and heard the thick hum of voices,
and saw on all sides the pretence of cordiality, as she watched the
altogether unhidden flirtations of one girl, and the despondent frown
of another, she began to ask herself whether her father had not been
wrong when he insisted that she should be taken to London. Would she
not have been more safe and therefore more happy even down at Cross
Hall, with her two virtuous sisters-in-law? What would become of her
should she quarrel with her husband, and how should she not quarrel
with him if he would suspect her, and would frequent the house of that
evil woman?

Then Jack De Baron came up to her, talking to her father. The Dean
liked the young man, who had always something to say for himself, whose
manners were lively, an