"BUT I can't think," said Ellie Vanderlyn earnestly, "why youdon't announce your engagement before waiting for your divorce.

　　People are beginning to do it, I assure you--it's so muchsafer!"Mrs. Vanderlyn, on the way back from St. Moritz to England, hadpaused in Paris to renew the depleted wardrobe which, only twomonths earlier, had filled so many trunks to bursting. Otherladies, flocking there from all points of the globe for the samepurpose, disputed with her the Louis XVI suites of the NouveauLuxe, the pink-candled tables in the restaurant, the hours fortrying-on at the dressmakers'; and just because they were somany, and all feverishly fighting to get the same things at thesame time, they were all excited, happy and at ease. It was themost momentous period of the year: the height of the "dressmakers' season."Mrs. Vanderlyn had run across Susy Lansing at one of the Rue dela Paix openings, where rows of ladies wan with heat and emotionsat for hours in rapt attention while spectral apparitions inincredible raiment tottered endlessly past them on aching feet.

　　Distracted from the regal splendours of a chinchilla cloak bythe sense that another lady was also examining it, Mrs.

　　Vanderlyn turned in surprise at sight of Susy, whose head wascritically bent above the fur.

　　"Susy! I'd no idea you were here! I saw in the papers that youwere with the Gillows." The customary embraces followed; thenMrs. Vanderlyn, her eyes pursuing the matchless cloak as itdisappeared down a vista of receding mannequins, interrogatedsharply: "Are you shopping for Ursula? If you mean to orderthat cloak for her I'd rather know."Susy smiled, and paused a moment before answering. During thepause she took in all the exquisite details of Ellie Vanderlyn'sperpetually youthful person, from the plumed crown of her headto the perfect arch of her patent-leather shoes. At last shesaid quietly: "No--to-day I'm shopping for myself.""Yourself? Yourself?" Mrs. Vanderlyn echoed with a stare ofincredulity.

　　"Yes; just for a change," Susy serenely acknowledged.

　　"But the cloak--I meant the chinchilla cloak ... the one withthe ermine lining ....""Yes; it is awfully good, isn't it? But I mean to lookelsewhere before I decide."Ah, how often she had heard her friends use that phrase; and howamusing it was, now, to see Ellie's amazement as she heard ittossed off in her own tone of contemptuous satiety! Susy wasbecoming more and more dependent on such diversions; withoutthem her days, crowded as they were, would nevertheless havedragged by heavily. But it still amused her to go to the bigdressmakers', watch the mannequins sweep by, and be seen by herfriends superciliously examining all the most expensive dressesin the procession. She knew the rumour was abroad that she andNick were to be divorced, and that Lord Altringham was "devoted"to her. She neither confirmed nor denied the report: she justlet herself be luxuriously carried forward on its easy tide.

　　But although it was now three months since Nick had left thePalazzo Vanderlyn she had not yet written to him-nor he to her.

　　Meanwhile, in spite of all that she packed into them, the dayspassed more and more slowly, and the excitements she had countedon no longer excited her. Strefford was hers: she knew that hewould marry her as soon as she was free. They had been togetherat Ruan for ten days, and after that she had motored south withhim, stopping on the way to see Altringham, from which, at themoment, his mourning relatives were absent.

　　At Altringham they had parted; and after one or two more visitsin England she had come back to Paris, where he was now about tojoin her. After her few hours at Altringham she had understoodthat he would wait for her as long as was necessary: the fearof the "other women" had ceased to trouble her. But, perhapsfor that very reason, the future seemed less exciting than shehad expected. Sometimes she thought it was the sight of thatgreat house which had overwhelmed her: it was too vast, toovenerable, too like a huge monument built of ancient territorialtraditions and obligations. Perhaps it had been lived in fortoo long by too many serious-minded and conscientious women:

　　somehow she could not picture it invaded by bridge and debts andadultery. And yet that was what would have to be, of course ...

　　she could hardly picture either Strefford or herself continuingthere the life of heavy county responsibilities, dull parties,laborious duties, weekly church-going, and presiding over localcommittees .... What a pity they couldn't sell it and have alittle house on the Thames!

　　Nevertheless she was not sorry to let it be known thatAltringham was hers when she chose to take it. At times shewondered whether Nick knew ... whether rumours had reached him.

　　If they had, he had only his own letter to thank for it. He hadtold her what course to pursue; and she was pursuing it.

　　For a moment the meeting with Ellie Vanderlyn had been a shockto her; she had hoped never to see Ellie again. But now thatthey were actually face to face Susy perceived how dulled hersensibilities were. In a few moments she had grown used toEllie, as she was growing used to everybody and to everything inthe old life she had returned to. What was the use of makingsuch a fuss about things? She and Mrs. Vanderlyn left thedress-maker's together, and after an absorbing session at a newmilliner's were now taking tea in Ellie's drawing-room at theNouveau Luxe.

　　Ellie, with her spoiled child's persistency, had come back tothe question of the chinchilla cloak. It was the only one shehad seen that she fancied in the very least, and as she hadn't adecent fur garment left to her name she was naturally insomewhat of a hurry ... but, of course, if Susy had beenchoosing that model for a friend ....

　　Susy, leaning back against her cushions, examined through half-closed lids Mrs. Vanderlyn's small delicately-restoredcountenance, which wore the same expression of childisheagerness as when she discoursed of the young Davenant of themoment. Once again Susy remarked that, in Ellie's agitatedexistence, every interest appeared to be on exactly the sameplane.

　　"The poor shivering dear," she answered laughing, "of course itshall have its nice warm winter cloak, and I'll choose anotherone instead.""Oh, you darling, you! If you would! Of course, whoever youwere ordering it for need never know ....""Ah, you can't comfort yourself with that, I'm afraid. I'vealready told you that I was ordering it for myself." Susypaused to savour to the full Ellie's look of blank bewilderment;then her amusement was checked by an indefinable change in herfriend's expression.

　　"Oh, dearest--seriously? I didn't know there was someone ...."Susy flushed to the forehead. A horror of humiliationoverwhelmed her. That Ellie should dare to think that of her--that anyone should dare to!

　　"Someone buying chinchilla cloaks for me? Thanks!" she flaredout. "I suppose I ought to be glad that the idea didn'timmediately occur to you. At least there was a decent intervalof doubt ...." She stood up, laughing again, and began towander about the room. In the mirror above the mantel shecaught............