beaded short cape.  A dull flush rose to his countenance, and he turned away without showing any sign of recognition; but he was annoyed and disgusted, because this particular kind of blatantly vulgar bad taste was the sort of thing he loathed.  It was the sort of thing which made duchesses of women who did alluring “turns” at music halls or sang suggestive songs in comic opera, and transformed into the chatelaines of ancient castles young persons who had presided at the ribbon counter.  He saw as little as possible of his heir presumptive after this, and if the truth were told, Captain Alec Osborn was something of a factor in the affair of Miss Emily Fox-Seton.  If Walderhurst’s infant son had lived, or if Osborn had been a refined, even if dull, fellow, there are ten chances to one his lordship would have chosen no second marchioness.

Captain Osborn’s life in India had not ended in his making no further debts.  He was not a man to put the brake on in the matter of self-indulgence.  He got into debt so long as a shred of credit remained to him, and afterwards he tried to add to his resources by cards and betting at races.  He made and lost by turn, and was in a desperate state when he got his leave.  He applied for it because he had conceived the idea that his going home as a married man might be a good thing for him.  Hester, it seemed not at all improbable, might accomplish something with Walderhurst.  If she talked to him in her interesting semi-Oriental way, and was fervid and picturesque in her storytelling, he might be attracted by her.  She had her charm, and when she lifted the heavy lids of her long black eyes and fixed her gaze upon her hearer as she talked about the inner side of native life, of which she knew such curious, intimate things, people always listened, even in India, where the thing was not so much of a novelty, and in England she might be a sort of sensation.

Osborn managed to convey to her gradually, by a process of his own, a great deal of what he wanted her to do.  During the months before the matter of the leave was quite decided, he dropped a word here and there which carried a good deal of suggestion to a mind used to seizing on passing intimations.  The woman who had been Hester’s Ayah when she was a child had become her maid.  She was a woman with a wide, silent acquaintance with her own people.  She was seldom seen talking to anyone and seldom seemed to leave the house, but she always knew everything.  Her mistress was aware that if at any time she chose to ask her a question about the secret side of things concerning black or white peoples, she would receive information to be relied upon.  She felt that she could have heard from her many things concerning her husband’s past, present, and future, and that the matter of the probable succession was fully comprehended by her.

When she called her into the room after recovering outwardly from her hour of desperation, she saw that the woman was already aware of the blow that had fallen upon the household.  What they said to each other need not be recorded here, but there was more in the conversation than the mere words uttered, and it was one of several talks held before Mrs. Osborn sailed for England with her husband.