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"Relieve my curiosity, Mr. Bertram, and tell me where you are?" said
Lady Esmondet, as she leaned back and placed her feet on the softest
of fender stools; "we came to dine with a bachelor in something of
bachelor, live-by-myself style, and we find ourselves in a noble
mansion."
"Yes, Bertram," said Trevalyon; "I was aware of the capacity of a
London alderman, in catering to the comfort of his pampered body; but,
I repeat Lady Esmondet's question of where are you."
"And I answer," said the voice of gay Mrs. Eustace Wingfield, as she
entered, "in one of the most fashionable of French flats on Avenue de
l'Imperatrice, the fourth flat of said number Eustace and I are
fortunate denizens of, and I can assure you, the inmates are such
pleasant people that, yours truly, with Eustace, are oftener to be
found in these sunny quarters than at Eaton Square, London."
"You are happy," said Vaura, "never out of the sunshine."
"Yes, I like it," said Mrs. Wingfield; "I can't live in the shade, and
Mr. Bertram has me to adore for giving him the sun-light of this
dwelling.


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