“St. James’s!” she thought. “Can he mean Madame Gwyn? No, no!”
The look of suspicion which for an instant had clouded her face changed to one of merriment, under Adair’s magic glance.
“And you would desert me for such a fleshless sprite?” she asked.
“Not so,” said Nell, with a winning look; “but, when my better-half returns to life, I surely cannot refuse an interview–especially an she come from afar.”
Nell’s eyes arose with an expression of sadness, while her finger pointed down–ward in the direction of what she deemed the probable abode of her departed “Nell.” Her lips twitched in merriment, however, despite her efforts to the contrary; and the hostess fell a-laughing.
“Ladies,” she cried, as she appealed to one and all, “is not le Beau a delight–so different from ordinary men?”
“I am not an ordinary man, I assure you,” Nell hastened to declare.
This assertion was acquiesced in by a buzz of pretty compliments from the entire bevy of ladies. “Positively charming!” exclaimed one. “A perfect love!” said another.
Nell listened resignedly.
“’Sheart,” she said, at length, with an air of ennui, “I cannot help it. ’Tis all part of being a man, you know.”