She laughed outright at his candid criticism, which was so thoroughly well deserved. Half the dinners, she declared, were given by adventurers from the City to needy men with titles, which were wanted to lend lustre to prospectuses. And the whole affair had been so cleverly engineered by the manager of the restaurants, who nightly gave paragraphs to the journalists, thus glorifying the givers of feasts and flattering the guests, that a _mode_ had actually been created, and even the most exclusive set had been compelled to follow it, royalty itself being often among the diners. At his request she re-seated herself at the piano, and to disperse the melancholy that had settled upon him she sang with infinite zest the latest song of the Paris cafe-concerts which had been made famous by the popular _chanteur_, Paulus, at the Ambassadeurs'. The chorus ran as follows: "Ah! Monsieur Chamberlain, ca n'etait pas malin, Les femmes de l'Angleterre ell's manqu'nt de militaires D'leur absenc' tout l'mond' se plaint. Car ils sont rigolos, avec leurs p'tits polos. A London je le confess' on admir' leur gentiless Quand ils march'nt entortillant, en entortillant leur... yes." The grave-faced Jackson entered and with pompous ceremony served him with a whiskey and soda, as was usual; then, after she had sung to him another _chanson_, he rose to go. As it was already late, and as he was obliged to return to the House, he was compelled to take leave of her. "You really love me, Dudley?" she asked in a low, intense voice, as they stood locked in each other's arms just before he left. "Tell me that you do. Somehow I am so apprehensive, foolishly so, perhaps; but your words always reassure me. I feel happier and a better woman after hearing them." "Love you, Claudia?" he cried, his hand stroking her beautiful hair; "how can you ever doubt me? I swear by all I hold most sacred that no tender thought of any woman save yourself ever enters my heart. I am wholly and entirely yours." And he kissed her with all the fervent passion of an ardent lover. "And you will never desert me--never? Promise!" she said, in tones breathing anxiety and earnestness. "I promise," he answered. His voice had lost a little of its resonance, but she did not notice the slight change. He made a promise which he himself knew to be incapable of fulfilment. Hers no longer, he was now helpless in the inexorable toils of that mysterious woman who alone held his secret. She kissed him again in fond farewell. Outside in the great hall, which was famous for its fine marble columns and statuary, the man helped him on with his coat, while Claudia stood above upon the terrace of the upper hall, laughing gaily and wishing him "good-bye" as was her wont. Then he went forth in a dazed condition, walking along Knightsbridge in search of a passing hansom to take him down to the House.