cultivate the acquaintance of his old college companion. Eveline had never dared to tell her husband of what had passed between herself and Staunton, and made faint and few objections to his wish to have him at her parties. She had no reason to give but the true one, and she felt so much pleasure in Staunton's conversation and society that she was almost glad she dared not give it. Gerald Staunton fancied it would be absurd and foolish to decline the invitations he received.
She was a married woman, not apparently unhappy, and of course she had made up her mind to her fate. It was a pity, however, that she saw so much of him, for the contrast between Staunton's talents and Derrick's mediocrity; between Staunon's dignified self-respect and Derrick's sensitive vanity; and between Saunton's earnestness and Derrick's flippancy—struck every day with stronger force on the heart of the unloving wife.
Lady Gower was the only person who seemed to be alive to the dangerous position her niece was in. She was disappointed that Lady Eveline, who had been such a gentle and tractable girl, now made such an unaccommodating wife. Indeed Lady Eveline might have been happier, and ought to have been happier; for though she had made a sad mistake, and indeed done a wrong thing, she might have made the best of it, and
