"None," echoed Lord Standon. "Leroy will be famous for one thing, at
least, if it's only for his cook."
The meal came to an end, and the table was cleared by the silent
Norgate. Cards were produced, and the four were soon deep in the
intricacies of bridge. They played high and recklessly; and after little
more than an hour, Shelton and Leroy had lost over five hundred pounds.
"A close run, eh, Shelton?" laughed Leroy as he took the notes from an
open drawer. "Had they played the knave we should have won. Time for
another round?"
"Not I," replied his friend, with a regretful shake of his head. "I'm
due at Lady Martingdale's."
"Picture galleries again?" laughed Standon, who knew that lady's
weaknesses.
"Yes," Shelton confessed, "and with Miss Martingdale too."
The others laughed significantly.
"Say no more, Mortimer," begged Lord Standon, with mock grief. "Your
days are numbered. Already I see myself enacting the part of chief
mourner--I should say, best man--if you will allow me."
Shelton rose, laughing good-humouredly.
"Thanks, I'll remember--when it comes to that!"
"You're incorrigible, Stan," said Leroy, as his guests were taking their
leave. "You'd better settle down yourself first, and leave Shelton
alone."
When they had all gone, the host stood looking at the empty chairs. They
seemed, as it were, typical of the weary, empty hours of his life, and
for the first time a wholesome distaste of it all swept over him. Day
in, day out, an everlasting whirl--wherein he and his companions turned
night into day and spent their lives in a hollow round of gaiety, in
which scandal, cards, women and wine were chief features. And, at the
end! What would be the end?
Then he shook himself from his unaccustomed reverie; Adrien Leroy, the
popular idol of fashionable society, was not given long to
introspection.
"What next?" he asked himself.
It was Norgate who answered the unspoken query, by announcing that the
motor was at the door.
As Adrien descended the stairs, Jasper Vermont entered the hall below
him.
"Ah, just in time!" he said with his amicable smile. "You're off to the
Park, I suppose?"
"I don't know yet," returned Adrien evasively. "What do you think of the
motor?"
"Worthy even of Adrien Leroy," replied Jasper, with the faintest
suspicion of a sneer, which, however, passed unperceived by his friend.
"By the way," he continued, as they walked to the door together, "I have
just left Ada in tears, poor girl; repentance followed closely on
repletion. She vows solemnly to refrain from onions and patchouli for
the future, and begs for the return of your favour."