“Jealousy, Mr. Caresfoot, is a luxury that my husband is not allowed to indulge in; it is very well for lovers, but what is a compliment in a lover becomes an impertinence in a husband.  But if I keep you here much longer, I shall be drawing the enmity of Miss Lee, and—­yes, of Fraulein von Holtzhausen, too, on to my devoted head, and, as that is the only sort of jealousy I have any fear of, or indeed any respect for, being as it is the expression of the natural abhorrence of one woman for another, I had rather avoid it.”

Philip followed the direction of her sleepy eyes, and saw that both Miss Lee and Hilda appeared to be put out.  The former was talking absently to Mr. Bellamy, and glancing continually in the direction of that gentleman’s wife.  The latter, too, whilst appearing to listen to some compliment from George, was gazing at Mrs. Bellamy with a curious look of dislike and apprehension in her face.

“You see what I mean; Fraulein von Holtzhausen actually looks as though she were afraid of me.  Can you fancy any one being afraid of me, except my husband, of course?—­for as you know, when a woman is talking of men, her husband is always excepted.  Come, we must be going; but, Mr. Caresfoot, bend a little nearer; if you will accept it from such a stranger, I want to give you a bit of advice—­make your choice pretty soon, or you will lose them both.”

“What do you mean—­how do you know——­”

“I mean nothing at all, or just as much as you like, and for the rest I use my eyes.  Come, let us join the others.”

A few minutes later Hilda put down her work, and, declaring that she felt hot, threw open the French window and went out into the garden, whither, on some pretext or other, Philip followed her.

“What a lovely woman that is,” said Mrs. Bellamy, with enthusiasm, to Miss Lee, as soon as Philip was out of earshot.  “Her tout ensemble positively kills one.  I feel plain and dowdy as a milkmaid alongside of a Court-beauty when I am in the room with her.  Don’t you, Miss Lee?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I never thought about it, but of course she is lovely and I’m plain, so there is no possibility of comparison between us.”

“Well, I think you rate yourself rather low, if you will allow me to say so; but most women would but ‘poorly satisfy the sight’ of a man when she was present.  I know that I should not care to trust my admirer (if I had one), however devoted he might be, for a single day in her company; would you?”

“I really don’t know; what do you mean?”

“Mean, Miss Lee, why I mean nothing at all; what should I mean, except that beauty is a magnet which attracts all men; it serves them for a standard of morality and a test of right and wrong.  Men are different from women.  If a man is faithful to one of us, it is only because no other woman of sufficient charm has become between him and us.  You can never trust a man.”