"Do I look all right, Chetwode?" "Quite unnecessarily so," said Chetwode, and he gave her a look, which she recognised as the greatest compliment she ever received. Her eyes brightened and she blushed. "And who," said Chetwode, "may I ask, put it into your head to wear an entirely gold dress with your golden hair?" She hesitated half a second. "Oh! not the dressmaker? and it wasn't your own idea? I can only think of one other person. Do congratulate Wilton from me on his success as a designer." "Chetwode! if I did ask him to design it, it was so that you should be pleased with the dress." He smiled. "Quite so. And I am." "Oh, won't you come and fetch me?" "It's quite impossible. How late shall you stay?" "I'll come back just when you like." "Oh, enjoy yourself, dear. I'm going to stop at home." He seemed to have regained the equanimity that for a moment he seemed to have lost. Driving along, Felicity thought, "Perhaps if Chetwode _could_ be a shade jealous of Bertie, it might be a good thing. Still, that sort of thing is so commonplace. _We_ oughtn't to have to descend to it." Surely Chetwode, who never went by the opinion of others, who absolutely judged for himself, and for whom general success by no means raised the value of his choice, could not care a shade more for his wife because she was admired by Wilton, and would care less for her if he did not think her incapable of admiring any one but himself. "Are any of those eternal vulgar theories about love really ever true?" thought Felicity. Then wasn't Chetwode superior? Of course he was. That was why she loved him, and in wishing him to be an ordinary jealous man, she was wishing him to descend. However, when "Faute des roses" greeted her (exquisitely played by the Hungarians), and she was sitting in a bower of roses in her gold dress, with her respectfully worshipping and delightfully amusing Bertie, Felicity forgot her anxiety and thoroughly enjoyed herself. She was made much of, and admired; the homage was intoxicating, she was young, and she imprudently gave every one present the impression that she was flirting desperately with Bertie Wilton. CHAPTER XIX THE VELVET CASE