‘The Demi-monde is one of the finest plays in the French language,’ said Smithson.  ‘You know it, of course, Lady Lesbia?’

’Alas! no.  At Fellside I was not allowed to read French plays or novels:  or only a novel now and then, which my grandmother selected for me.’

‘And now you read everything, I suppose,—­including Zola?’

’The books are lying about, and I dip into them sometimes while I am having my hair brushed,’ answered Lesbia, lightly.

’I believe that is the only time ladies devote to literature during the season,’ said Mr. Smithson.  ’Well, I envy you the delight of seeing the Demi-monde without knowing what it is all about beforehand.’

’I daresay there are a good many people who would not take their girls to see a play by Dumas,’ said Lady Kirkbank, ’but I make a point of letting my girls see everything.  It widens their minds and awakens their intelligence.’

‘And does away with a good many silly prejudices,’ replied Mr. Smithson.

Lady Kirkbank and Lesbia were due at a Kensington garden-party after the recital, and from the garden-party, for which any hour sufficed, they went to show themselves in the Park, then back to Arlington Street to dress for the play.  Then a hurried dinner, and they were in their places at the theatre in time for the rising of the curtain.

‘If it were an English play we would not care for being punctual,’ said Lady Kirkbank; ’but I should hate to lose a word of Dumas.  In his plays every speech tells.’

There were Royalties present, and the house was good; but not so full as it had been on some other nights, for the English public had been told that Sarah Bernhardt was the person to admire, and had been flocking sheep-like after that golden-haired enchantress, whereby many of these sheep—­fighting greedily for Sarah’s nights, and ignoring all other talent—­lost some of the finest acting on the French stage, notably that of Croizette, Delaunay and Febvre, in this very Demi-monde.  Lesbia, who, in spite of her affectations, was still fresh enough to be charmed with fine acting and a powerful play, was enthralled by the stage, so wrapt in the scene that she was quite unaware of her brother’s presence in a stall just below Lady Kirkbank’s box.  He too had a stall at the Gaiety.  He had come in very late, when the play was half over.  Lesbia was surprised when he presented himself at the door of the box, after the fourth act.

Maulevrier and his sister had met very seldom since the young lady’s debut.  The young Earl did not go to many parties, and the society he cultivated was chiefly masculine; and as he neither played polo nor shot pigeons his masculine pursuits did not bring him in his sister’s way.  Lady Kirkbank had asked him to her house with that wide and general invitation which is so easily evaded.  He had promised to go, and he had not gone.  And thus Lesbia and he had pursued their several ways, only crossing each other’s paths now and then at a race meeting or in a theatre.