"But why?" she asked with assumed carelessness.
"Because he is not at a certain woman's feet, she has joined herself with black Delrose, his enemy of years, is my surmise, and I think the denouement will prove me correct."
"Poor dear uncle; his life is not an idyl."
"His mistake, Vaura, ma chere, is a weight of care to me, that I try in vain to shake off;" and something very like a tear glistened as she spoke.
The friends were unusually silent in the drive home. Arrived there they separated to dress for dinner; Vaura threw herself on her lounge to rest and think. "Poor, uncle Eric, what a woman he has put on the shackles of matrimony for; and now her attempt to injure our friend; poor Lion, my heart is full of pity for you and you do not know it, because you cannot speak until the "difficulty" is overcome; ah! me, what a world of lies it is, for that this 'hidden wife,' is a myth, and an inspiration from Lucifer to Madame, I am quite sure of. But alas! should their be one grain of truth in the bushel of lies, and that he cannot prove to 'society's' satisfaction that 'twas only a grain of youthful folly, that his manhood in its nobility had nothing to do with it. If he cannot do this, then he will never ask me to be anything more to him than what I shall always be, his friend; poor darling, what with his father's grief at his misguided mother's frailty, he has drank deep of the waters of bitterness; the unruly member set in motion by scandal, envy, hatred, or malice as motive power, is more to be dreaded as agent of evil, than dynamite in any form. But I must ring for Saunders and dress for dinner."
CHAPTER XXXI.
SOCIETY'S VOTARIES SMILE THOUGH THEY DIE.
"Here are some roses, Mademoiselle; the Captain cut them before he went out and bid me keep them fresh for you."
"Very well, Saunders, I shall wear them this evening; that is, the yellow ones; put the others in a vase, or give them to me, I shall, while you get out my ruby velvet; I am pale; it is high waist and no sleeves; take out my gold ornaments and bracelets—the plain gold bands; an old lace collar, with roses, shall be my neck-gear; hand me my vinagrette; I have a slight headache; and please comb my hair gently, it will be pleasant, yes; that will do."
"Your hair is a fortune to you Mademoiselle, so long and thick."