"That affair goes on well," remarked Lord Gascoigne, as his eye followed Lord Albert and Lady Hamlet Vernon.
"Yes," said Mr. Spencer Newcombe, "she is a clever woman; elle pique ses attachés. I give her credit for having angled so dexterously. A little while, and D'Esterre will be well landed."
While these persons thus passed their kindly comments, Lord Albert, Lord Glenmore, and Lady Hamlet Vernon walked about the gardens, and after a search of some time found Lady Tenderden, Lady Glenmore, and their party, who were laughing and talking gaily in the alcove tapissé de jonquilles. Mr. Leslie Winyard was playing with one of the long ribands that pended from Lady Glenmore's hat, and she seemed listening complacently to his conversation. The moment, however, that she beheld Lord Glenmore, she darted towards him, her face beaming with pleasure, and passing her arm through his, and looking up fondly in his face, said something in a low voice, to which he replied with answering tenderness; and as she continued to hang upon his arm, expressing her admiration of the fête, he appeared to enter into her delight, and to be as much amused as herself.
"What perfection of duplicity!" whispered Lord Boileau to Lord Tonnerre, as they entered the alcove together, and witnessed this meeting.
"And what a wide swallow he has," replied the other; while Mr. Leslie Winyard, mortified at the interruption which Lord Glenmore's arrival had occasioned, but at the same time too much master of his art to evince his real feeling, endeavoured to show himself satisfied with the semblance of a secret understanding between himself and Lady Glenmore as to her conduct towards her husband.
"What perfection of duplicity!" repeated Lord Boileau, as he observed what passed, and as Mr. Winyard, approaching Lord Glenmore, addressed him in easy, familiar terms, making himself appear to be, as in all similar cases, and selon tous les règles depuis tous les temps, l'ami de la maison, and equally necessary to both parties. The whole scene did not pass unobserved by Lord Albert, who recollected what observations had been made before, by some of the same party, on Lady Glenmore at the drawing-room; and he felt he despised those who could thus lightly tamper with the honour of the man whose notice they courted, whose society they affected to like, and to whose intimacy they endeavoured to aspire. But it was a subject on which he could only think. Miserably, our best friends are frequently precluded, from circumstances, from being of the least use to us.
After a short interval, passed in visiting the different objects of beauty and interest in the gardens of the Priory, the hour arrived for assembling the guests under the marquees where the déjeûner dinatoire was prepared; and Lord and Lady Glenmore, with their party, adjourned thither. The Leinsengen, Baskerville, Boileau, and Lady De Chere, were already placed when they arrived; but all made way for them, and in the mêlée of the moment Mr. Leslie Winyard succeeded in securing his post by the side of Lady Glenmore. After the first clamour of voices had subsided, every one spoke to his neighbour only; and Mr. Leslie Winyard availed himself of this opportunity to engross Lady Glenmore's attention in every possible way. Lady Boileau, who was seated opposite and rather desœuvré, amused herself by remarking every glance and every little attention which Mr. Winyard addressed to Lady Glenmore; and whispered to the Comtesse Leinsengen, "Ça va grand train," indicating by a look those of whom she spoke.
"O dat is always de way in dis country: either des dragonnes de vertu, or else, tête baissé, you give de grand scandale. 'Tis noting new; 'tis à votre ordinaire. Ça fait pitié, but it cannot be help. Toujours des grandes passions, which end in de run away, de food for de newspapers; and den sauve qui peut, and de woman is left to sink or swim, que vous êtes maladroites, vous autres Angloises."
"Pardon me, dear comtesse," said Lord Gascoigne, joining in the conversation, and speaking in the tone of satire with which he sometimes lashed the foibles of the day, "pardon me, comtesse, not always: there are many who, a little while after their écarté, have retired from the scene in order to return to it with a fresh title and fresh fame. It only depends upon the rank that is held by the préféré. It is true, were he as handsome as Adonis, and as seducing as Love himself, that would be no excuse; but if he has wealth, power, title, the affair passes through a regular process of sous entendu, and then all is smooth again, et on passe à des nouvelles amours."
"Very true," rejoined the Comtesse Leinsengen sharply; "and so much for your boasted London morale."