She is listening to one who leans on her instrument and whispers as softly as the wind now whispers in my acacias.’

‘Hem!’ said I. ‘Is the figure that of a bald elderly gentleman?’

Louisa sighed her affirmative.

‘By the bye,’ continued I. ‘It is constantly reported that he has taken to –’

‘What?’ interrupted the Marchioness. ‘Not proof spirits, I hope! Watered Hollands I know scarcely satisfied him.’

‘No, madam, repress your fears. I was alluding merely to his dress. The pantaloons are gone: he sports white tights and silks.’

Low as the whisper was in which I communicated these stunning tidings, it thrilled along Louisa’s nerves to her heart. During the pause which followed, I waited in breathless expectation for the effect. It came at last. Tittering faintly, she exclaimed, ‘You don’t say so! Lord! how odd! But after all, I think it’s judicious, you know. Nothing can exhibit more perfect symmetry than his leg, and then he does get older of course, and a change of costume was becoming advisable. Yet I should almost fear there would be too much spindle, he was very thin, you know – very –’

‘Have you heard from his lordship lately?’ I asked.

‘Oh no! About six months ago I had indeed one little note, but I gave it to Macara by mistake, and really I don’t know what became of it afterwards.’

‘Did Macara express hot sentiment of incipient jealousy on thus accidentally learning that you had not entirely dropped all correspondence with the noble Earl?’

‘Yes. He said he thought the note was very civilly expressed, and wished me to answer it in terms equally polite.’

‘Good! And you did so?’

‘Of course. I penned an elegant billet on a sheet of rose-tinted note-paper, and sealed it with a pretty green seal bearing the device of twin hearts consumed by the same flame. Some misunderstanding must have occurred, though, for in two or three days afterwards I received it back unopened and carefully enclosed in a cover. The direction was not in his lordship’s hand-writing: Macara told me he thought it was the Countess’s.’

‘Do you know Selden House, where his lordship now resides?’ I asked.

‘Ah yes! Soon after I was married I remember passing it while on a bridal excursion to Rossland with the old Marquis. We took lunch there, indeed, for Colonel Selden (at that time the owner of it) was a friend of my venerable bridegroom’s. Talking of those times reminds me of a mistake everybody was sure to make at the hotels and private houses etc. where we stopped. I was universally taken for Lord Wellesley’s daughter. Colonel Selden in particular persisted in calling me Lady Julia. He was a fine-looking man, not so old as my illustrious spouse by at least twenty years. I asked Dance, who accompanied us on that tour, why he had not chosen for me such a partner as the gallant Colonel. He answered me by the sourest look I ever saw.’

‘Well,’ said I, interrupting her ladyship’s reminiscences. ‘Here we are at your villa. Goodnight. I cannot sup with you this evening: I am engaged.’

‘Nay, Charles,’ returned she, retaining the hand I would have withdrawn from hers. ‘Do come in! It is so long since I have had the pleasure of a quiet tète à tète with you.’

I persisted for some time in my refusal; but at length yielding to the smile and the soft tone of entreaty I gave up the point, and followed the Marchioness in.

On entering her ladyship’s parlour, we found the candles lighted and a supper-tray placed ready for us on the table. By the hearth, alone, Lord Macara Lofty was seated. His hand, drooping over the arm-chair, held two open letters: his eyes were fixed on the fire – as seemed, in thought. Louisa roused him.