'By Jingo, there is old Pudd's carriage at the door, and his wife in it--a deuced fine girl, a stunning girl indeed!' 'Queer time this, to bring her up to London, when there is not a soul in town.' 'Perhaps that is the very reason he has done so.' 'I'll invite old Pudd down to the cub-hunting, and, if he brings her with him, won't I improve the shining hour!' The speakers were two very _blasé_ but good-looking young men, who were lounging in the bay window of the otherwise empty room of a stately club-house overlooking Pall Mall, then lonely, dusty, rather sun-baked, and the chief figures in which were the sentinels of the Guards at the War-Office and Marlborough House, and who, with no small interest, had seen Sir Paget Puddicombe's open carriage drop him at the door, where he waved his hand to Eveline as she drove away to shop or go round the park. Now, Sir Harry Hurdell, a sporting baronet, well known on the turf and at Tattersall's, and his chief chum, Mr. Pyke Poole, a famous hand at billiards, more skilled with the cue than any marker in London, were not Sir Paget's style of men, for both were horsey, fast, given to gambling and loose living, but both were anxious to stand in the good graces of one who, as they phrased it, 'was proprietor of such a devilish handsome girl.' They had not seen him since his marriage, on which both complimented and congratulated him in such well-chosen terms that he felt quite flattered, and his heart warmed to them. It flashed upon him that by the society of other young men it was possible to neutralise--if he did nothing more--the recollection of Evan Cameron in the mind of Eveline, and thus it was that he said, 'We are quite alone in town, but will you dine with us to-day?' 'With pleasure--delighted--charmed to be introduced to Lady Puddicombe,' said Sir Harry, with a swift glance at his friend Poole. 'Sharp eight, then. I daresay our chef will not fail us.' 'All right.' 'Good-morning,' and away he went. The friends looked at each other, each with an eye half closed, and then laughed heartily. 'I'll have him down at the Hall for the cub-hunting,' said Sir Harry, 'and have other sport than that. She'll soon get tired of her fogie--is bound to do so. What young girl could tolerate such an old pump, and why shouldn't I go in and win at a canter?' 'Hawke Holcroft knew her people, didn't he?' 'Yes--before he came a cropper altogether. When last I heard of him he was actually a visitor at their place, Aberfeldie, wherever that may be.' Eveline heard with total indifference that they were to have guests that evening, and with all his admiration of her Sir Paget thought, 'What a fool I was to marry her, knowing or suspecting what I did--that she loved that fellow--loved him first (me she never loved at all) and last, and loves him now, no doubt. They say no woman ever forgets her first love, simply because he was her first. Pleasant for me!'