Mrs. Delaport Green might be outside the circle in which Lady Groombridge disported herself with more dignity than gaiety, but she had the entree to some houses almost as good, if not as exclusive, and she had also a large number of acquaintances who entertained systematically and extravagantly.  That the Delaport Greens were very rich, or lived as if they were very rich, had from the first surprised the “paying guest.”  Lately it had become evident to her that if Adela had not been addicted to cards, Molly would never have been established in her house.  She had found out by now that Mr. Delaport Green was a man of very good repute in the financial world as being distinctly successful on the Stock Exchange.  He struck Molly as a sturdy type of Englishman, rather determined on complete independence, and liking to pay his way in a large free fashion.  She rather wondered at his having consented to the plan of the “paying guest,” but he seemed quite genial when he came across her and inquired with sympathy after her amusements, and evidently wished that she should enjoy herself.

Many girls whose position was undoubtedly secure, whom no one disliked and everybody was willing to amuse, had a much less amusing summer than Molly.  And Edmund Grosse, most unconsciously to himself, was a leading figure in the warm dream of delight in which Molly lived from the middle of May till the end of June.  They did not meet often at dances, but at stiffer functions, at the Opera, and also twice in the country—­once on the river on a Sunday afternoon, and once for a whole week-end party, which last days deserve to be treated in more detail.

The group who met under the deep shade of some historic cedars, on a hot Saturday afternoon, to spend together a Saturday to Monday with a notably pleasant host and hostess, had carried with them the electric atmosphere of the season that so fascinated Molly’s inexperience, to perfume it further with the June roses and light it with the romance of summer moonlight.  Of the party were Molly and her chaperone and Sir Edmund Grosse.

By this time Mrs. Delaport Green had made up her mind that Molly had decidedly better become Lady Grosse, and she felt that it would be a pleasing and honourable conclusion to the season if the engagement were announced before she and Molly parted.  She had fleeced Molly very considerably, but she wanted her to have her money’s worth, and go away content.

It would take long to carry conviction as to the actual good and the possibility of further good there was in Mrs. Delaport Green.  Out of reach of certain temptations she might have been quoted as a positive model of goodness and unselfish brightness.  If her imitative gift had found only the highest models, she might have been a happy nun, or a quiet, stay-at-home wife and mother.  But she was tossed into a social whirlpool where her instincts and her ambitions and her perceptions were all confused, and out of the depths of her little spoiled soul, had crawled a vice—­probably hereditary—­which might otherwise have slept.  It was fast becoming known that Molly’s chaperone was a thorough gambler.