CHAPTER II

Julia Barker was the youngest daughter of a needy gentleman of good family who for many years had roamed about the cheaper continental resorts, bearing in his train two dashing good-looking girls—and leaving in his track a considerable number of bad debts. Occasionally, his rich relations came to his assistance; for instance, when Fanny succeeded in capturing the affection of a wealthy baronet, Sir Herbert Barre, the connection provided a suitable wedding and trousseau, and hinted that they looked to Fanny to help her sister in the like manner. It was really discreditable, the way in which old Fitzroy dragged their name about in the dust of Europe; they were constantly encountering people who said, “Oh—we met your cousins the Hollington-Barkers at Spa or Monte Carlo—theyare your cousins, are they not? Rather a handsome girl, and a thin old gentleman, who gambles a good deal.” Sometimes it appeared that the thin old gentleman had borrowed money from these too confiding travellers. However, at last Captain Fitzroy Hollington-Barker’s wanderings came to an end; he was accorded (for the sake of the connection) a decent funeral, buried in the ancestral vault; and Julia his daughter had her liberty, the world before her, and one hundred and fifty pounds a year. Lady Barre had exerted herself in every way to “help off poor Ju” as she termed it; but so far her anxious efforts had proved of no avail: on the contrary, poor Ju had sustained several crushing disappointments. Yet Julia Barker was a handsome woman, in a showy dark style; she had bright eyes, a bright, somewhat fixed colour, a fine carriage, and a sustained supply of energy and conversation. Also she was granddaughter of the late Earl of Hollington, and sister to Lady Barre, who entertained so well; but—Miss Barker had no money—was losing her looks and figure, and bore the reputation of a temper, and debts! In spite of her clever manœuvring, and her astonishing aptitude for exacting invitations, favours, presents, and even the use of their carriages, from her circle, Miss Barker’s future was becoming somewhat grey. People were beginning to weary of her company, her stories, her assurance, and herself! when Maudie Sutton—to her supreme joy—presented to her the gallant gentleman, whom she subsequently advertised as “her fate.” She and Maudie, who had been intimates for years, met at the glove-counter of a well-known shop in Knightsbridge.

“You got my note, Ju?” said Mrs. Sutton. “I hope you are coming on Friday?”

“No, dearest; I am engaged to the Farmers—charades and a dance——”

“Oh, never mind the Farmers, Ju,” interrupted Mrs. Sutton; “this little dinner of mine is ten million times more important—and,” she lowered her voice and concluded her speech in a series of somewhat breathless whispers.

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