At this moment, the servant entered to say that the box at the French play, which her ladyship had wished to have, had been given up, and that it was at her service for that evening. “Oh, Fanny, that is charming! We can go there for the two first pieces, and come home to dress.” “But Lord Delaford was to dine at home, and he will dine alone if we go.” “Oh! he does not mind that.” “Doesn’t he?” said Fanny, in a low, marked tone. Lady Delaford desired the servant to let the man wait; and Fanny felt she had gained something. “Now, I don’t think he will care a pin whether we are at home or not; and he goes back to the House afterwards.” “Not till ten o’clock, he said.” “Married people should not see too much of each other. _Toujours perdrix_ is insipid!” “How much have you seen of him to-day?” “Why, let me see! he looked in, did he not, just as we had done breakfast, about one?” “Yes; and your Italian improvisatore came two minutes afterwards, whose energetic rhapsodies of gratitude for your patronage, and admiration of your talents, were delivered in so stentorian a voice, that he took his departure, to prevent the drums of his ears from being broken. And yesterday—what did we see of him yesterday?” “Why, he dined out, you know, at a political man-dinner—that was not my fault—and in the morning we were at Lady F.’s breakfast.” “And the day before?” “Oh! that was the day of our water-party to Greenwich; and that occupied the whole day. Well, I see how it is—but you will make me spoil him; and then, when he is quite unmanageable and untractable, I shall reproach you!” “Well, dearest Isabella, I give you full leave to do so—then!” Lady Delaford rang the bell, and sent back the tickets. “Now, how bored we shall all three of us be to-day at dinner! I shall be thinking all the time of that dear little Mademoiselle Hyacinthe.” “No, no, you won’t, dear Isabella. You will be your own gay, agreeable self.” Lord Delaford came home to dinner, and seemed pleased to find so small a party. Isabella told him, with an arch glance at Fanny, that he was very near finding a still smaller one; that the tickets for the best box at the French play had been sent to them after all. “And why did you not go?” asked Lord Delaford. Isabella did not like to take all the credit, when she felt she deserved but little, and she answered: “Why, I believe Fanny suspects you of having a bad conscience; at least she thought you would not like to be alone.”