"To say 'marriage' under _any_ circumstances to be 'bliss,' is rank heresy to your well-known views; but I understand your present impulse is engendered by seeing our dear friend playing hostess."

"Not so altogether; you also are near," and her arm is involuntarily pressed to his side.

"Well, ladies fair and gallants gay," said Mr. Bertram, as he found a comfortable lounging chair for Lady Esmondet, "we have just time for a cup of coffee and a cigarette, ere we roll away in a _carrosse_ to the Theatre Francais."

"To the theatre!" exclaimed Trevalyon; "I was not aware this was on the _tapis_ for this evening."

"Yes," said Lady Esmondet, "Mr. Bertram and I arranged it; M. Octave Feuillet's play, the "Sphynx," is on. I begin to think it was selfish on my part, you all look so comfortable; perhaps we had better abandon it."

"Put it to the vote," cried Mrs. Wingfield.

"And no bribery," echoed Vaura.

"I fear if it is put to the vote," said Lady Esmondet, "mine will be bought, by the beseeching look of Capt. Trevalyon, for a stay at home."

"See what it is to have an expressive face, Trevalyon," said Everly; "it has gained you one vote, in spite of the rule Miss Vernon made of no bribery."

"I thank you for your sympathy, Lady Esmondet; but I fear yours would be the only vote recorded in my favor, so the 'Sphynx' must needs make us her own."

"As she did many an unhappy mortal in days of yore, in her Theban home. I wonder if they looked as resigned in their martyrdom as poor Capt. Trevalyon does," said Vaura.

"I used to think Oedipus finished her," said Trevalyon.

"Only for his day," said Vaura; "'twas too long a look till Octave Feuillet; he should have asked Lynceus to give a glance."

"The Cyclops might have lent him an eye," said Bertram.

"Are you always as indifferent to the stars of the stage Captain?" enquired Mrs. Wingfield, as she gently puffed away her delicate cigarette. "What Eustace would do without his distractions in that way, heaven only knows."

"He will outgrow it; most men have stage fever, as most babies have measles," he answered evasively.

"And now for our mantles and away," said Lady Esmondet, rising.

"And may the mantle of resignation fall on the shoulders of poor Capt. Trevalyon," said Vaura, taking his offered arm, and as the hand leaning on his arm pressed closely, she said in low tones, "you had my unregistered vote."

"_Merci_," he said, pressing her hand.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THEATRE FRANCAIS.

They found the theatre crowded from pit to dome. And the advent of our little party, as they took possession of their box, caused no little sensation even in that galaxy of beauty and fashion.

"By the lilies of France," said a Parisian, putting up his glass; "though not the three graces, one of them is there."

"Yes, by the memory of Bonaparte, she is worth a long look," said his companion, gazing at Vaura.

And two of the occupants of Mr. Bertram's box were indulging much the same thought. Lionel's handsome face wore a warmer look than ordinarily, as he chatted to Vaura, leaning on the back of her chair.