December Love

s to stay with the Mariguys, but all Craven had to do was to leave a card at Number 18A, Berkeley Square, and when this formality had been accomplished Lady Sellingworth would no doubt write to hi

him. It was not Craven's habit to be at the feet of old ladies. He much preferred to them young or youngish women, unmarried or married. But Lady Sellingworth "intrigued

he wanted

Dowager Countess of Sellingworth." Craven looked at this plate and at the big knocker above it as he rang the electric bell. Almost as soon as he ha

rcase-Craven suddenly felt as if he stood in a London more solid, more dignified, more peaceful, even more gentlemanlike, than the London he was accustomed to. There seemed to be in this house a large calm, an almost remote stillness, which put modern Bond Street, just around the corner, at a very great distance. As he followed the butler, wa

drawing-room, at the far end of which, by a fire, were sitting three people. They were Lady Sellingworth, the faithful Sir Seymour Portman, and a beautiful girl, slim, fair, with an athletic figure, and vividly intelligent, though rather sarcastic, violet eyes. This

ceive him. As she did so he wa

beauties of their day, it was now quite frankly a ruin, lined, fallen in here and there, haggard, drawn. Nevertheless, looking upon it, one could guess that once upon a time it must have been a face with a mobile, almost imperial, outline, perhaps almost insolently striking, the arrogant countenance of a conqueror. When gazing at it one gazed at the ruin, not of a cottage or of a gimcrack villa, but at the ruins of a palace. Lady Sellingworth'

ikingly natural. There could never, he thought, have been a grain of affectation in her. The idea even came into his head that she was as nat

ingly human, simply and absolutely herself as God had made her. And what a rare joy that was, to meet in London a woman of the great world totally devoid

uyn and the general, made him si

e she spoke. In her imagination she was certainly watching herself, and noting with interest and pleasure her young and ardent beauty, which seemed to Craven more remarkable when she was speaking than when she was silent. She must, Craven thought, often have stood before a mirror and carefully "memorized" herself in all her variety and detail. As he sat there listening he could not help compa

d or two occasionally. Although a grave, even a rather sad-looking man, he was evidently entertained by Miss Van Tuyn's volubility and almost passionate, yet not vulgar, egoism. Probably he thought such a lovely girl had a right to adm

she presently said to Lady Sellingworth. "Y

. But that was almost before you were born," sa

d at her. She

aris, didn't you?"

nd understood

ands everything, does

with a glance at Lady Sellingworth half humorous, half affectionate. "But

ellingworth said, with a light

pened her viole

ing-yes; for that is being and is

f ceasing, Beryl. Some

planning for the future on earth. No one

ho, at the age of eighty, was preparing for a tour round the world when influen

at duchess was an America

ermined not to cease than you English?"

you thi

aps w

gently, almost caressingl

aid. "I do want you to see my apartment, and my bronze

ugh or stayin

ayi

instant, and Craven saw the half sad

in Paris for ten

r, who slightly bent his

en?" said Miss Van Tuyn. "So unlike the man

ngworth's jewelry were stolen in Paris at the Gare du Nord ten years ago. Did Mi

e, it seemed, she lived very independently with a dame de compagnie, who was always in one room with a cold re

ingworth evad

hat that is; nor do you, Mr. Craven. Even you, Seymour, you don't know. For you are a man of action, and at Court there is always movement. But I, my friends-" She gave Craven a d

age, too!" crie

I was an

you then!" said Miss

ned Lady Sellingworth, with the slightest

on. Craven felt that she was no