“I do not see what Society has to do with private life,” answered Eva, who was standing at the foot of her mother’s couch. “My dear child, it is downright anarchism! Where is the moral restraint that keeps us all in order! We may frown at dull, old Mrs Grundy; but no well-organised Society can very well do without her, after all.” “Oh! Mrs Grundy died from the shock of seeing herself in nature’s garb. She was only a soured old schoolmistress, who each morning glanced at the columns of her _Court Journal_ with suspicious eyes. She ran down the names of births, marriages and deaths, chuckling inwardly at the comforting feeling that all her social infants were well under her thumb, and that none had escaped her lynx eye.” “I hear a ring at the bell,” suddenly interrupted Lady Carey. “Do you expect anyone, mother dear?” “Not anyone, dear child. But it is Thursday, and that used to be my day at home.” The dainty woman sighed heavily. “I think I hear Lionel’s voice in the hall.” Eva turned towards the door as it was opened to let in Lady Somerville and her husband. “I am glad to see you, Gwen”—Lady Carey rose to kiss the Countess. “Well, Lionel,” as she resumed her seat on the couch, “I am ashamed of you. What on earth possessed you to carry her off in that wild fashion? You know, my dear boy, a good many centuries have passed since Adam and Eve, and I have no doubt that the Almighty Himself would consider their conduct improper.” “You are the same as ever, Lady Carey, as lighthearted as of yore.” “You surely did not expect me to change my views, did you, dear Lionel? You are too funny for words! But I suppose that is your privilege. You always do whatever you like and are accepted wholesale by the rest of the world. Luckily nothing can alter the fact that you are a gentleman.” “Oh! for goodness’ sake strike out that word from your vocabulary!” hotly exclaimed Lionel. “It means absolutely nothing but impunity to do every disgraceful action under the sun.” “I beg your pardon, my dear Lionel, the word means everything. A bad action committed by a gentleman is very different from one committed by a plebeian; the first knows what he is about, and whatever he does, he never forgets that he is born a gentleman.” “The more shame to him for not behaving like one,” muttered Lionel. “Oh! dear boy, you are too radical, indeed. Well, tell me, had you many sins to confess? Had Gwen a heap of peccadilloes on her conscience?” Lionel smiled, but remained silent. “Oh! oh! are they so appalling that my matronly ear cannot hear them? Fie on you both!” and Lady Carey looked very arch. “These are mysteries that we have tried to solve alone.”