There was his apparent intimacy with a distinguished diplomatic character—a nobleman; there would be his constant visits to the grand mansion in Park Lane—strange if with these appearances in his favour he could not still contrive to throw dust in the eyes of Dame Girdwood!
Certainly his scheme was far from hopeless. By the new appointment a long vista of advantages had been suddenly disclosed to him; and he now set himself to devise the best plan for improving them.
Fan was called into his counsels; for the wife was still willing. Less than ever did she care for him, or what he might do. She, too, had become conscious of brighter prospects; and might hope, at no distant day, to appear once more in Rotten Row.
If, otherwise, she had a poor opinion of her husband, she did not despise his talent for intrigue. There was proof of it in their changed circumstances. And though she well knew the source from which their sudden prosperity had sprung, she knew, also, the advantage, to a woman of her propensities, in being a wife. “United we stand, divided we fall,” may have been the thought in her mind; but, whether it was or not, she was still ready to assist her husband in accomplishing a second marriage!
With the certificate of the first, carefully stowed away in a secret drawer of her dressing-case, she had nothing to fear, beyond the chance of a problematical exposure.
She did not fear this, so long as there was a prospect of that splendid plunder, in which she would be a sharer. Dick had promised to be “true as steel,” and she had reciprocated the promise.
With a box of cigars, and a decanter of sherry between them, a programme was traced out for the further prosecution of the scheme.