“Your sister?”

“Yes, my sister.  Madame Gordeloup is her name.  Has not Lady Ongar mentioned my sister?  They are inseparables.  My sister lives in Mount Street.”

“With you?”

“No, not with me; I do not live in Mount Street.  I have my address sometimes at her house.”

“Madame Gordeloup?”

“Yes, Madame Gordeloup.  She is Lady Ongar’s friend.  She will talk to you.”

“Will you introduce me, Count Pateroff?”

“Oh, no; it is not necessary.  You can go to Mount Street, and she will be delighted.  There is the card.  And now we will smoke.”

Harry felt that he could not, with good-breeding, detain the count any longer, and, therefore, rising from his chair, led the way into the smoking-room.  When there, the man of the world separated himself from his young friend, of whose enthusiasm he had perhaps had enough, and was soon engaged in conversation with sundry other men of his own standing.  Harry soon perceived that his guest had no further need of his countenance, and went home to Bloomsbury Square by no means satisfied with his new acquaintance.

On the next day he dined in Onslow Crescent with the Burtons, and when there he said nothing about Lady Ongar or Count Pateroff.  He was not aware that he had any special reason for being silent on the subject, but he made up his mind that the Burtons were people so far removed in their sphere of life from Lady Ongar, that the subject would not be suitable in Onslow Crescent.  It was his lot in life to be concerned with people of the two classes.  He did not at all mean to say—­even to himself—­that he liked the Ongar class better; but still, as such was his lot, he must take it as it came, and entertain both subjects of interest, without any commingling of them one with another.  Of Lady Ongar and his early love he had spoken to Florence at some length, but he did not find it necessary in his letters to tell her anything of Count Pateroff and his dinner at the Beaufort.  Nor did he mention the dinner to his dear friend Cecilia.  On this occasion he made himself very happy in Onslow Crescent, playing with the children, chatting with his friend, and enduring, with a good grace, Theodore Burton’s sarcasm, when that ever-studious gentleman told him that he was only fit to go about tied to a woman’s apron-string.

Chapter XV

Madame Gordeloup

On the afternoon of the day following his dinner at the Beaufort with Count Pateroff Harry Clavering called on the Count’s sister in Mount Street.  He had doubted much as to this, thinking at any rate he ought, in the first place, to write and ask permission.  But at last he resolved that he would take the count at his word, and presenting himself at the door, he sent up his name.  Madame Gordeloup was at home, and in a few moments he found himself in the room in which the lady was sitting, and recognized her