by family ties to Lady Carabas, never allowed his clanship to "mix him up in any of her ladyship's rum starts," as he phrased it--and Gilbert Lloyd, whose worn and haggard appearance was the cause of much solicitude and anxious inquiry from Lady Carabas. Lloyd appeared rather annoyed at the _prononcé_ manner which her ladyship adopted towards him, and at which some of the most daring followers smiled, more especially when the reigning favourite, the gentleman in the Foreign Office, looked very much displeased. He seemed very much happier when at a later period in the day he found himself seated by the Duchess of Winchester, who rallied him with much piquancy on his defection. "I am astonished at you, Mr. Lloyd, quite astonished," she said laughingly. "Do you know we used to call you the Undying One!" "Well, you could not call Toshington that, could you, Duchess?" said Gilbert; "look how very purple his whiskers are in the sunlight." "No, no, of course I don't mean that; how can you be so absurd? You know our dear friend opposite is like somebody in old time I read of once, who used to kill her admirers regularly at the end of a certain time. It's a notorious fact that--over there--no flirtation lasts longer than twelve months, and we call you the Undying One because you have held undisputed sway over that Soul for--O, it must be years! And now, after all this, you have the baseness to shut your ears to the voice of the charmer--we saw the spell tried on an hour ago--and to come over here!" "I don't think there's much harm done, Duchess, even if all were as you say, which I am very far from admitting. Calypso is the only instance on record of a woman who '_ne pouvait se consoler après le depart_' of anyone she liked. I am certain that no lady of modern days would be so weak." "Ah, I know what you mean; you mean Mr. Pennington. Well, he's very good-looking, certainly, in his own red-and-white way, but he's insufferably stupid; and a stupid man, however handsome he may be, always bores me to death. I-- Who is this dreadful man down here? Is it to you or to me he's making those horrible grimaces?" Lloyd looked over in the direction in which the Duchess pointed, and to his horror saw Mr. Foxey Walker, who apparently had had a great deal too much to drink, whose fantastic clothes looked infinitely shabbier and seedier in the daylight than they had on the previous evening, and who was throwing up his arms, endeavouring to attract the attention of someone in the stand. Foxey no sooner saw that Gilbert Lloyd had recognised him than he approached the stand, and called out, "Hi, Lloyd! hollo there, Lloyd! Just come and pass me up there, will you? I want to speak to you." "It's to you he's calling, Mr. Lloyd!" said the Duchess, arching her pretty eyebrows and making a little _moue_ of astonishment. "What a strange-looking creature! who in the world is he?"