But despite her words, she half rose and looked nervously about her as if seeking for some escape; then, refusing Mr Cavendish's hastily-offered arm, she sat down again.

'I will see this dance out,' she said tremulously; 'and then, perhaps, if you are ready, we will go.'

And she turned her eyes once more on the stage, which was now flooded with purple and golden light, causing La Marina, in her impersonation of a butterfly, to glow with all the brilliant and soft colours of the rainbow. Her white wings were irradiated with all sorts of wonderful tints—now crimson, now blue, now green—and in the midst of all the glitter and play of light shone Marina's face, smiling with its sweetly simulated expression of innocence, while the diamond dove sparkled beneath her rounded chin. And as Delicia glanced from her to the arena to see the effect of the performance on the audience, she started, and in the extreme tension of her nerves almost screamed,—for there,—looking straight up at her, was her husband! Their eyes met; the crowded space of the auditorium and the brilliantly-lit stage, with the swaying figure of the popular dancer gliding to and fro upon it, severed them—the visible and outward signs of a wider separation to come. Lord Carlyon surveyed his wife with a lofty and offended air, and quickly understanding the expression on his features, Delicia could have laughed aloud, had she been less stunned and miserable. For he was assuming an aspect of injured virtue, which, considering the actual state of affairs, had something ludicrous about it; and for a moment Delicia studied him with a curiously calm and critical analysis, just as if he were a subject for literary treatment and no more. She saw, from his very look upward at her, that he considered her to have outraged the proprieties by visiting the 'Empire' at all, even though she was accompanied by two of her oldest and most familiar friends; and of his own guilt in connection with La Marina it was highly probable he never thought at all. Men are judged to be excellent logicians, superseding in that particular branch of knowledge all the feeble efforts of womankind; and undoubtedly they have a very peculiar form of arguing out excuses for their own vices, which must be acknowledged as exceedingly admirable. Before La Marina's gyrations were over, and while the male part of the audience was exhausting itself in frantic salvos of applause, Delicia was moved by such a keen and pungent appreciation of the comedy side of the situation that she could not help smiling. There was a wide wound in her heart; but it was so deep and deadly that as yet the true anguish of it was not betrayed—the throbbing ache had not begun, and she herself was scarcely as yet aware of her own mortal hurt. The brilliancy of her brain saved her, for the time being, from knowing to what extent her tenderest and best emotions had been outraged; and she could not avoid perceiving something almost droll in the fact that she, Delicia, had worked, among other things, for this, to enable her husband to deck his mistress with jewels purchased out of her hard earnings!

'It is very funny!' she said half aloud, 'and perhaps the funniest thing of all is that I should never have thought it of him!'

'What did you say, Delicia?' asked Mr Cavendish, bending down towards her.

Delicia smiled.

'Nothing!' she replied. 'I was talking to myself, which is a bad habit. I saw Will just now; he's in the arena somewhere. I expect he's not best pleased to see me here.'

'Well, he's here himself often enough,' retorted Mr Cavendish; 'at least, if one is to believe what people say.'

'Ah, but one must never believe what people say,' answered Delicia, still smiling quite radiantly. 'The majority of mankind tell more lies than truths; it suits their social customs and conveniences better. May we go now?'

'Willingly,' and the Cavendishes rose at once. 'Shall we look for Lord Carlyon?'