Meanwhile the ball went merrily. Lady Honoria never enjoyed herself
more in her life. She revelled in the luxurious gaiety around her like
a butterfly in the sunshine. How good it all was--the flash of diamonds,
the odour of costly flowers, the homage of well-bred men, the envy of
other women. Oh! it was a delightful world after all--that is when one
did not have to exist in a flat near the Edgware Road. But Heaven be
praised! thanks to Geoffrey's talents, there was an end of flats and
misery. After all, he was not a bad sort of husband, though in many ways
a perfect mystery to her. As for his little weakness for the Welsh girl,
really, provided that there was no scandal, she did not care twopence
about it.
"Yes, I am so glad you admire it. I think it is rather a nice dress,
but then I always say that nobody in London can make a dress like Madame
Jules. Oh, no, Geoffrey did not choose it; he thinks of other things."
"Well, I'm sure you ought to be proud of him, Lady Honoria," said the
handsome Guardsman to whom she was talking; "they say at mess that he is
one of the cleverest men in England.
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