“Oh! Montfort will never come. He will bolt at the last moment when the hall is full of packages. Their very sight will frighten him, and he will steal down to Princedown and read ‘Don Quixote.’” Sidney Wilton was quite right. Lady Montfort arrived without her lord. “He threw me over almost as we were getting into the carriage, and I had quite given it up when dear Lady Roehampton came to my rescue. She wanted to see her brother, and--here we are.” The arrival of these two great ladies gave a stimulant to gaieties which were already excessive. The court and the ministers rivalled the balls and the banquets which were profusely offered by the ambassadors and bankers. Even the great faubourg relaxed, and its halls of high ceremony and mysterious splendour were opened to those who in London had extended to many of their order a graceful and abounding hospitality. It was with difficulty, however, that they persuaded Lady Montfort to honour with her presence the embassy of her own court. “I dined with those people once,” she said to Endymion, “but I confess when I thought of those dear Granvilles, their _entrees_ stuck in my throat.” There was, however, no lack of diplomatic banquets for the successor of Louise of Savoy. The splendid hotel of the Count of Ferroll was the scene of festivals not to be exceeded in Paris, and all in honour of this wondrous dame. Sometimes they were feasts, sometimes they were balls, sometimes they were little dinners, consummate and select, sometimes large receptions, multifarious and amusing. Her pleasure was asked every morn, and whenever she was disengaged, she issued orders to his devoted household. His boxes at opera or play were at her constant disposal; his carriages were at her command, and she rode, in his society, the most beautiful horses in Paris. The Count of Ferroll had wished that both ladies should have taken up their residence at his mansion. “But I think we had better not,” said Lady Montfort to Myra. “After all, there is nothing like ‘my crust of bread and liberty,’ and so I think we had better stay at the Bristol.” CHAPTER LXXIV “Go and talk to Adriana,” said Lady Roehampton to her brother. “It seems to me you never speak to her.” Endymion looked a little confused. “Lady Montfort has plenty of friends here,” his sister continued. “You are not wanted, and you should always remember those who have been our earliest and kindest friends.” There was something in Lady Roehampton’s words and look which rather jarred upon him. Anything like reproach or dissatisfaction from those lips and from that countenance, sometimes a little anxious but always affectionate, not to say adoring, confused and even agitated him. He was tempted to reply, but, exercising successfully the self-control which was the result rather of his life than of his nature, he said nothing, and, in obedience to the intimation, immediately approached Miss Neuchatel.