"Yes, siren truly, luring men to destruction
by robbing them of their intelligence,
their courage, their sense of duty by her
wiles and fascinations. Woman to the
waist monster in all else."

"She befriends the French now," wh
spered another. "Heaven knows what
devil's game she's up to now."

I left the table and went up to Caradoc's
room, and for a while we were both too busy
in asking and telling English news to think
of anything else. We had not met for four
years, and had been as intimate as brothers,
so it was not surprising that we talked late,
and I had not yet come to the end of my
budget.

At last Caradoc pulled open his window.
We were nearly suffocated from the smoke
of our cigars.

"It is actually not far from sunrise," he
said, as he pointed to the blood-red gleams
which shot one after another into the grey
sky from the east. "Good night, Paul. I
am dead beat, and am going to have my
night's rest now. Bless you, my dear
fellow, you look as wide awake as if sleep
was an abnormal condition of the species, to
be dreaded like fever or apoplexy."

"I have lost the habit of it, I think,
since——"

"I know," he said; "but I will bet
anything you please that in a fortnight the
Countess Irene makes you forget Lady
Jane."

I smiled incredulously. "Man delights
not me nor woman either."

"Come with me to the Austrian embassy
tonight."

"I never go into society now," I said,
resolutely. "I am sick of the shams, and
the falsehoods, and the hypocrisies which
form what is called polite society."

Caradoc smiled. "All right, old fellow;
the proper thing to say with that Timon of
Athens face, but every society wears its
motley with a difference, and everything
here is new to you. Bless us, our
deceptions are on a broader scale than any you
have ever met with. Come, by way of an
experiment."

"Just as you like," I said. I was too
lazy to discuss the matter, and we parted.
I did not, however, take his advice and go
to bed. I wrote for two or three hours in
my own room, and then went out for a
morning walk.

I left Pera and went on through gardens
and detached houses into the country
beyond. It was about six o'clock. As I passed
the iron gates of a large house on my right,
four men coming out of it overtook me. They
bore a litter with closed curtains. I stood
aside to let them pass, and went on. I
took a two hours' walk, and then retraced
my steps. As I passed the house with the
iron gates, I saw a few poor persons were
collected in the road outside. Just at that
moment the men with the litter returned
with their burden. I saw the beggars close
round the litter, and I heard quite a chorus
of greetings and thanks. I did not
understand the language, but there was no
mistaking the tones.

I heard a sweet, mellow, woman's voice
answering them. The bearers then turned
inside the gates, which were instantly shut,
but not before a magnificent black and tan
spaniel had rushed in.

"Who is that?" I asked of the loiterers,
who were still looking through the iron
bars of the gate.

"Sorrow," was the answer.

"Sorrow?"

"Yes!"

I felt very much mystified, but in true
English fashion preferred remaining so
rather than hazard any more inquiries in a
language I was unfamiliar with.

That evening I accompanied Caradoc to
the Austrian ambassador's. He had fetched
me as I sat brooding over my cigar,
stretched full length on the sofa, in a state
of misanthropic contentment, but he
insisted on making me dress, and forced
me to accompany him. The rooms were very
full. I saw the French attach leaning
against the door as we entered the principal
drawing room, watching, as it seemed, for
the arrival of some one, and watched, as I
saw, by a plain, fair woman on the other
side of the room.

"That's his wife," whispered Caradoc.
"A good creature, but as jealous, bless her,
as the deuce. They have only been married
a year, and I know he wishes himself
unmarried a hundred times a day. He is an
American. Her family–the Mertons–are
also here. They have the next house to
this. Pleasant people."

I was, I confess, in spite of my
Hamletism, both interested and amused. There
was so much animation; such a vivid stir of
life pervaded the whole atmosphere; every
one in this circle was living in the fullest
sense of the word. I found some old
acquaintances, and exchanged greetings
with them. I observed that the Frenchman
still stood at his post. As I mingled
with the different groups, I heard much
astonishment and more regret expressed at