"A mutual business, I fancy, if it existed at all. But, as we made a mistake in the principal part of it, we probably did so in all. Besides"_lightly_"I ought not to tell you all this Mrs. Carrington. Tales out of school are malicious. Such mere suppositions as they are too." "Why surely I may congratulate myself on having gained a victory over so much beauty? It would be a pity to deny me this little gratification." Nevertheless, at heart, I am sorely vexed, and, through pique and wounded feeling, make myself more than agreeable to Sir Mark for the evening. Not once does 'Duke come near me; nor does he even appear to notice my wilful flirtation. Just before we break up, indeed, finding myself near to him in the supper-room, a strange desire to test his real mind towards me, to compel him to pay me some attention, seizes me. He is as usual in close attendance on Blanche Going, who has kept him chained to her side--willingly chained, without doubt--during the greater part of the evening. Having dismissed my partner on some pretext, I look straight at Marmaduke, and, shivering slightly, say, "How cold it is!" "Cold?" replies he, nonchalantly. "Is it? I thought it warm. Better send some one for a shawl. Here, Gore, will you get Mrs. Carrington something warm to put round her? She finds a draught somewhere." And, as Sir Mark departs obedient, 'Duke turns once more to his companion, as though forgetful of my very existence. Lady Blanche smiles disagreeably. Yesterday--surely only yesterday--he would have been kinder; he would have gone for this shawl himself How eagerly, with what extreme tenderness has he ever anticipated my wants! And now the attentions of a stranger are considered good enough for me. Is he tired of me already? Has he so soon discovered the poverty of my charms? Or has that old fascination returned with redoubled power, to make him regret what is, alas! irrevocable? Sick at heart, and mortified to the last degree, I turn away, yet with lifted head and proud, disdainful lips, lest he or she should rightly guess my thoughts. --- All the next day a marked coldness exists between me and my husband. We mutually avoid each other, and, the better to do so, fall back for conversation upon those nearest to us. The nearest to me, at all events, is Sir Mark Gore. Not being by any means a "gushing" pair, this temporary estrangement is unnoticed by the greater part of our guests; to the few, however, it is plainly visible. Bebe sees it, and is vexed and troubled. Sir Mark sees it, and is curious. Lady Blanche sees it, and is triumphant. It is clear that, for whatever end she has in view, all things are working well. Once or twice during the evening I catch her eyes fixed upon me, and as I do so her glance falls slowly, while a malignant, insolent smile creeps round her mouth. At such moments I am pagan in my sentiments, and would, if it were possible, call down all evil things upon my enemy.