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"I should think no woman married to Col. Haughton could, or would,
think to kill time with any other man," said Vaura, warmly, a slight
curl on her perfect lips.
"Bravo, Vaura," said her godmother; "a woman is of very slight value
if, when she marry a man worth going to the altar with, she, after a
few moons wane, looks about like Moore's 'Lesbia,' for some one to
keep _ennui_ at bay."
"Hear, hear," said Bertram; "but to-day we have so many marriages of
convenience that the society of some affinity is sought for
distraction's sake."
"It's awfully nice to have an affinity for some one else's wife; but,
by Jove," said Douglas, "if I were married, and caught a fellow
hanging about my wife, I'd just want to handle one of Vulcan's
heaviest, and tap him on the head."
"Spoken like a Briton on his preserves," laughed Vaura.
"How these fellows without an income manage to keep to the front is
more than I can tell," said Douglas; "now, this Everly, though he
doesn't exactly wax fat and shine, he isn't one of the lean kine
either.


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