RS. STANLEY HUBBARD was giving a dinner-party at her new house in Park Lane. It was a very gorgeous house, and it was certain to be a very gorgeous dinner, for she had engaged as her chef the great Alphonse, whose last place had been with the Emperor of Austria. Besides, it had somehow leaked out that a slight misunderstanding had arisen between Mrs. Hubbard and her social godmother, Lady Willie Onslow, and people thought it would be interesting to see how the Bread Trust millionairess managed things in her first hour of freedom.
Thirteen invitations had been sent out and accepted. The first arrival was a youthful scion of foreign Royalty who had borrowed money of Mrs. Stanley Hubbard. The second was Lady Willie herself, wearing a veiled smile of malicious anticipation, and a paste copy of a diamond tiara which had been Mrs. Hubbard's first gift to her. The remaining guests then began to follow one another in quick succession.
The grandfather clock in the big hall, which did queer, expensive, astronomical things to music every fifteen minutes, chimed the quarter before nine, and at the same instant the tallest footman in London announced "Lord and Lady Hardacre and Miss Faithfull."
After all—was the thought which telegraphed itself round the drawing-room—"Mother Hubbard" was not doing badly out of leading-strings. It counted nothing that she had secured Prince Roberto, for he was to be bought when the price was big enough; and, then, he was in love with pretty Lady Willie. But Lady Hardacre had been the beauty and wit of several seasons—the most popular girl of her day; and Lord Hardacre was the hero of the hour, in spite of whispers against him since the beginning of a certain inquiry. Everybody wanted this distinguished pair, who had been married a few months ago, soon after Lord Hardacre's triumphant return from the war; and it was a brilliant feather in the cap of such a woman as Mrs. Stanley Hubbard to have secured them. But the strange thing was that Lady Willie Onslow still bore her well-known smile of dainty malice.
Lady Hardacre, sweeping towards her hostess in diamanté draperies of cloudy black tulle, might have posed to an artist for the Goddess of Night. She was tall and dark, smiling and splendid. Everything about her glittered: the life-sized diamond swallow in her dusky, rippling hair; her great brown topaz eyes; her while teeth, between the scarlet lips of a mouth over large for perfect beauty, but ideal for expression; the necklace on her long, white throat, the diamonds on her bosom; her belt of brilliants, the sparkling embroidery on her dress, the buckles on her little pointed shoes.
She held her head high (as well she might, having secured the man whom no girl in England would have refused), and looked as all young queens or princesses ought to look and very seldom do.
General Lord Hardacre was forty-four; but to be forty-four is to be young when a man is a hero to his country. He had a well-featured, sallow, smileless face, which his friends called intellectual and his enemies arrogant. His figure was so erect and military that he gave the effect of being taller than he really was; if not precisely handsome, the merest passing glance told that he was someone in particular.
As for Miss Faithfull, she was only Lady Hardacre's sister, eight years younger and ten times less beautiful. Nevertheless, she was pretty, in a slim, brown, fawn-like little way of her own. She had eyes and lashes, and she was seventeen. Her name was Pearl, though it should, to be suitable, have been Hazel; and she was just "out." She did not talk much, but she looked as if she could think seriously, and for that reason and many others she would never rival the magnificent Diana in popularity.
Everyone was delighted to see the Hardacres, and "Mother Hubbard's" only son, down from Oxford for the "Long," was delighted to See Pearl Faithfull. The girl had very little money, but she was related to half the aristocracy in England, and a connection by marriage with Lady Hardacre would be as good a thing as could happen to a rich new-comer. Mrs. Hubbard had gleaned a vast deal of such valuable knowledge as this under Lady Willie's tutelage, and was proud of her 'cuteness in having invited the little brown Pearl to-night. Altogether, the Bread Trust millionairess was well pleased with herself, and was chuckling inwardly at what must be Lady Willie's chagrin at her unassisted success, when another announcement was made.
"General Falconer."