The ladies would have voted any gathering dull if Sir Percy's witty
sallies did not ring from end to end of the dancing hall, if his new
satin coat and 'broidered waistcoat did not call for comment or
admiration.

But that was the frivolous set, to which Lady Blakeney had never
belonged.

It was well known that she had always viewed her good-natured
husband as the most willing and most natural butt for her caustic wit;
she still was fond of aiming a shaft or two at him, and he was still
equally ready to let the shaft glance harmlessly against the flawless
shield of his own imperturbable good humour, but now, contrary to
all precedent, to all usages and customs of London society,
Marguerite seldom was seen at routs or at the opera without her
husband; she accompanied him to all the races, and even one night--
oh horror!--had danced the gavotte with him.

Society shuddered and wondered! tried to put Lady Blakeney's
sudden infatuation down to foreign eccentricity, and finally consoled
itself with the thought that after all this nonsense could not last, and
that she was too clever a woman and he too perfect a gentleman to
keep up this abnormal state of things for any length of time.

In the meanwhile, the ladies averred that this matrimonial love was a
very one-sided affair. No one could assert that Sir Percy was anything
but politely indifferent to his wife's obvious attentions. His lazy eyes
never once lighted up when she entered a ball-room, and there were
those who knew for a fact that her ladyship spent many lonely days in
her beautiful home at Richmond whilst her lord and master absented