WHICH, BEING THE FIRST, IS VERY PROPERLY THE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN THE
BOOK
When Sylvia Marchmont went to Europe (adequately chaperoned, of
course), George Bellew being, at the same time, desirous of testing his
newest acquired yacht, followed her, and mutual friends in New York,
Newport, and elsewhere, confidently awaited news of their engagement.
Great, therefore, was their surprise when they learnt of her
approaching marriage to the Duke of Ryde.
Bellew, being young and rich, had many friends (a quite natural
result), who, while they sympathised with his loss, yet agreed among
themselves, and with great unanimity that, despite Bellew’s millions,
Sylvia had done vastly well for herself, seeing that a duke is always a
duke, especially in America.
There were also divers ladies of uncertain age in New York, Newport,
and elsewhere, chiefly matrons, and celebrated for their exclusiveness,
the magnificence of their receptions, their palatial homes, their
jewels, and their daughters, who were anxious to know how Bellew would
comport himself under his disappointment. Some leaned to the idea that
he would immediately blow his brains out; others opined that he would
promptly set off on another of his exploring expeditions, and lose
himself in the Himalayan snows, or get himself torn to pieces by lions
and tigers, or devoured by alligators; while others again feared
greatly that, in a fit of pique, he would marry some “young person”
unknown, unheard of, and therefore, of course, utterly unworthy.
How far these worthy, and uncertain aged ladies (matrons for the most
part, as has been said) were right or wrong in their surmises, they who
take the trouble to turn the following pages shall find out.
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