Eveline Merivale was only
too cognisant of what was passing between Lady Constance and her cousin;
and though she knew that Adrien and herself had merely played at love,
and greatly against his will, at that, still she was just as unwilling
to see him the devoted slave of another woman, who was younger, if not
more beautiful, than herself.
After the ladies had retired for; the night, Adrien gave himself up to
unaccustomed reverie. The tenor of his life had been changed. The inane
senseless round of dissipation had begun to tire him; the homage and
flattery cloyed on his palate. And now, with his newborn love for
Constance filling his heart and mind, had come the overwhelming failure
of his beloved horse, and the death of his jockey; the last causing him
more pain than the light-hearted companions around him would have
believed possible. Neither had the half-defined charge made against
Jasper escaped his notice, though he had disdained to make any mention
of it.
Shelton noticed his absent manner, as they smoked their last cigar
before going to bed.
"Counting up the losses, Adrien?" he asked casually.
Adrien started at the question, and smiled.
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