But while she counted the sparkles produced by her full reconciliation with her lord, poor Plantagenet Palliser was still trembling in his ignorance.  If only he could have been allowed to see Mrs Grantly’s letter, and the lady’s answer, and the lord’s present!  But no such seeing was vouchsafed to him, and he was carried off in his brougham to Lady de Courcy’s house, twittering with expectant love, and trembling with expectant ruin.  To this conclusion he had come at any rate, that if anything was to be done, it should be done now.  He would speak a word of love, and prepare his future in accordance with the acceptance it might receive.

Lady de Courcy’s rooms were very crowded when he arrived there.  It was the first great crushing party of the season, and all the world had been collected into Portman Square.  Lady de Courcy was smiling as though her lord had no teeth, as though her eldest son’s condition was quite happy, and all things were going well with the de Courcy interests.  Lady Margaretta was there behind her, bland without and bitter within; and Lady Rosina also, at some further distance, reconciled to this world’s vanity and finery because there was to be no dancing.  And the married daughters of the house were there also, striving to maintain their positions on the strength of their undoubted birth, but subjected to some snubbing by the lowness of their absolute circumstances.  Gazebee was there, happy in the absolute fact of his connection with an earl, and blessed with the consideration that was extended to him as an earl’s son-in-law.  And Crosbie, also, was in the rooms,—­was present there, though he had sworn to himself that he would no longer dance attendance on the countess, and that he would sever himself away from the wretchedness of the family.  But if he gave up them and their ways, what else would then be left to him?  He had come, therefore, and now stood alone, sullen in a corner, telling himself that all was vanity.  Yes; to the vain all will be vanity; and to the poor of heart all will be poor.

Lady Dumbello was there in a small inner room, seated on a couch to which she had been brought on her first arrival at the house, and on which she would remain till she departed.  From time to time some very noble or very elevated personage would come before her and say a word, and she would answer that elevated personage with another word; but nobody had attempted with her the task of conversation.  It was understood that Lady Dumbello did not converse,—­unless it were occasionally with Mr Palliser.

She knew well that Mr Palliser was to meet her there.  He had told her expressly that he should do so, having inquired, with much solicitude, whether she intended to obey the invitation of the countess.  “I shall probably be there,” she had said, and now had determined that her mother’s letter and her husband’s conduct to her should not cause her to break her word.  Should Mr Palliser “forget” himself, she would know how to say a word to him as she had known how to say a word to her husband.  Forget himself!  She was very sure that Mr Palliser had been making up his mind to forget himself for some months past.