himself forward, crossed over the room to where Lady Windermere was
sitting, and, with a charming blush, asked her if she thought Mr.
Podgers would mind.

'Of course, he won't mind,' said Lady Windermere, 'that is what he
is here for. All my lions, Lord Arthur, are performing lions, and
jump through hoops whenever I ask them. But I must warn you
beforehand that I shall tell Sybil everything. She is coming to
lunch with me to-morrow, to talk about bonnets, and if Mr. Podgers
finds out that you have a bad temper, or a tendency to gout, or a
wife living in Bayswater, I shall certainly let her know all about
it.'

Lord Arthur smiled, and shook his head. 'I am not afraid,' he
answered. 'Sybil knows me as well as I know her.'

'Ah! I am a little sorry to hear you say that. The proper basis
for marriage is a mutual misunderstanding. No, I am not at all
cynical, I have merely got experience, which, however, is very much
the same thing. Mr. Podgers, Lord Arthur Savile is dying to have
his hand read. Don't tell him that he is engaged to one of the most
beautiful girls in London, because that appeared in the Morning Post
a month ago.

'Dear Lady Windermere,' cried the Marchioness of Jedburgh, 'do let
Mr. Podgers stay here a little longer. He has just told me I should
go on the stage, and I am so interested.'

'If he has told you that, Lady Jedburgh, I shall certainly take him
away. Come over at once, Mr. Podgers, and read Lord Arthur's hand.'