Sir Reginald left Hallgrove a few days after the fatal accident in the hunting-field, and went back to his London lodging, which seemed very shabby and comfortless after the luxury of Hallgrove Rectory. He did not care to spend his evenings at Hilton House, for he shrank from hearing Paulina's complaints about her loneliness and poverty. The London season had not yet begun, and there were few dupes whom the gamester could victimize by those skilful manoeuvres which so often helped him to success. It may be that some of the victims had complained of their losses, and the villa inhabited by the elegant Austrian widow had begun to be known amongst men of fashion as a place to be avoided.
Reginald Eversleigh feared that it must be so, when he found the few young men he met at his club rather disinclined to avail themselves of Madame Durski's hospitality.
"Have you been to Fulham lately, Caversham?" he asked of a young lordling, who was master of a good many thousands per annum, but not the most talented of mankind.
"Fulham!" exclaimed Lord Caversham; "what's Fulham? Ah, to be sure, I remember—place by the river—very nice—villas—boat-races, and that kind of thing. Let me see, bishops, and that kind of church-going people live at Fulham, don't they?"
"I thought you would have remembered one person who lives at Fulham—a very handsome woman, who made a strong impression upon you."
"Did she—did she, by Jove?" cried the viscount; "and yet, upon my honour, Eversleigh, I can't remember her. You see, I know so many splendid women; and splendid women are perpetually making an impression upon me—and I am perpetually making an impression upon splendid women. It's mutual, by Jove, Eversleigh, quite mutual. And pray, who is the lady in question?"
"The beautiful Viennese, Paulina Durski."
The lordling made a wry face.
"Paulina Durski! Yes, Paulina is a pretty woman," he murmured, languidly; "a very pretty woman; and you're right, Eversleigh—she did make a profound impression upon me. But, you see, I found the impression cost me rather too much. Hilton House is the nicest place in the world to visit; but if a fellow finds himself losing two or three hundred every time he crosses the threshold, you can be scarcely surprised if he prefers spending his evenings where he can enjoy himself a little more cheaply. However, perhaps you'll hardly understand my feelings on this subject, Eversleigh; for if I remember rightly you were always a winner when I played at Madame Durski's."
"Was I?" said Sir Reginald, with the air of a man who endeavours to recall circumstances that are almost forgotten.