the evasions by which power in Society is often supposed to be
confirmed, reputations are frequently ruined, and lives are almost
invariably made wretched. But Sir CHARLES knew none of these
things. He was apparently only too proud to be dragged at his wife's
chariot-wheels in her triumphant progress. For the strange part of
the business is that there was absolutely no need for any of her
deeply-laid schemes. Success, popularity and esteem would have come
to her readily without them. She was, as I said, beautiful. Innocence
seemed to be throned on her fresh and glowing face. Her smile
fascinated, her voice was a poem, and she was musical in the best
sense of the word at a time when good music, although it might lack
popular support, could always command a small band of enthusiastic
votaries in London.

There was at this time living in London an Italian artist, man
of letters and musical _virtuoso_, who was the spoiled darling of
Society. All the women raved about him, the men liked him, for he had
fought bravely on the field of battle, was a sportsman and had about
him that frank and abundant _gaieté de coeur_, which powerfully
attracts the less exuberant Englishman. For his part CASANUOVA (that
was his name) bore all his successes with good-nature and without
swagger. Of course there were whispers about him. Where so many women
worshipped, it was certain that two or three would lose their heads.
Amongst this limited number was little Mrs. MILLETT, one of Lady
CALLENDER's most intimate friends. She made no secret of her _grande
passion_. She poured her tale into the ears of Lady CALLENDER, and
asked for sympathy and help. Lady CALLENDER promised both, and at the
self-same moment, made up her mind that she would withdraw from Mrs.
MILLETT such affection as CASANUOVA had honoured her with, and bring
him, not because she cared for him, but merely for the sport of the