Miss Buckley, who had a strong fund of common-sense, did not resent this arrangement in any way. “I don’t blame him a little bit, my dear,” she said with absolute sincerity. “Of course he’s a different class altogether from my crowd. He wants to make a lady of you—I don’t mean to say you haven’t always been a lady, but you were under a cloud, in a manner of speaking—you know what I mean. If you came, he would have to come too, which would be awkward for him. He’ll be taking you into Society soon, and introducing you to his swell friends. Never mind, old dear, we can still be pals under the rose.” But that day to which Lettice had also been looking forward in her inmost thoughts never came. She was sure that a man of Darcy’s wealth and upbringing—for he had spoken of Eton and Oxford several times to his unsophisticated young wife—would introduce her into some very agreeable society. When she spoke to him rather timidly on the subject, for in spite of his general amiability she stood just a little bit in awe of him, he explained that he disliked general society, that he had not seen any of his relatives for years, that since his father died, he had spent the greater part of his time abroad, and had lost touch with most of the few people he used to know. “I never cultivated women’s society to any extent,” he told her. “You are the only girl I ever came across who made me think seriously of settling down. I’ve just a few men pals, and speaking for myself, you and they are all I want. Now, I don’t know about you, whether you would like to have a large acquaintance amongst your own sex. I’ve always heard that women, in their hearts, are not very fond of each other. Well, you’ve got Miss Buckley, who’s a real good sort, a little lacking in refinement perhaps, who can come here as often as you want her. And if you wish to go farther afield, you are sure to find a decent woman or two in the hotel you can chat to.” She accepted this plausible explanation, although she was just a bit puzzled by it, in spite of her inexperience of the world, on which, no doubt, this elegant-mannered young man who spoke so glibly of Eton and Oxford was relying. It seemed a little strange to her that he had no relatives, but then, she was in the same position. He might think the same with regard to her, if he ever thought on the subject. He had spoken of a few men pals. In time these all paid visits to the cosy little suite at the Metropole, consisting of bedroom, sitting-room and bathroom—about half a dozen in all. The young couple sometimes took their meals out at various restaurants, but more often in the grill room and restaurant of the hotel. As the first glamour of married life wore off, she began to use her critical faculties more extensively with regard to things and persons. Particularly she began to exercise them on these men friends whose society, he averred, was quite sufficient for him in conjunction with her own.