. You made me very
happy that night, for you told me I was the best-dressed woman in the
room."

"I should not have been very happy myself if I had known the cost of
your gown," answered the Captain grimly. "Fifteen guineas for a Honiton
_fichu!_" he cried presently. "What in mercy's name is a _fichu?_ It
sounds like a sneeze."

"It is a little half-handkerchief that I wear to brighten a dark silk
dress when we dine alone, Conrad. You know you have always said that
lace harmonises a woman's dress, and gives a softness to the complexion
and contour."

"I shall be very careful what I say in future," muttered the Captain,
as he went on with the bill. "French cambric _peignoir_, trimmed real
Valenciennes, turquoise ribbon, nineteen guineas," he read presently.
"Surely you would never give twenty pounds for a gown you wear when you
are having your hair dressed?"

"That is only the name, dear. It is really a breakfast-dress. You know
you always like to see me in white of a morning."

The Captain groaned and said nothing.

"Come," he said, by-and-by, "this surely must be a mistake. 'Shooting
dress, superfine silk corduroy, trimmed and lined with cardinal _poult
de soie_, oxydised silver buttons, engraved hunting subjects,
twenty-seven guineas.' Thank Heaven you are not one of those masculine
women who go out shooting, and jump over five-barred gates."

"The dress is quite right, dear, though I don't shoot. Theodore sent it
to me for a walking-dress, and I have worn it often when we have walked
in the Forest. You thought it very stylish and becoming, though just a
little fast."

"I see," said the Captain, with a weary air, "your not shooting does
not hinder your having shooting-dresses. Are there any
fishing-costumes, or riding-habits, in the bill?"

"No, dear. It was Theodore's own idea to send me the corduroy dress.
She thought it so new and _recherche_, and even the Duchess admired it.
Mine was the first she had ever seen."

"That was a triumph worth twenty-seven guineas, no doubt," sighed the
Captain. "Well, I suppose there is no more to be said. The bill to me
appears iniquitous. If you were a duchess or a millionaire's wife, of
course it would be different. Such women have a right to spend all they
can upon dress. They encourage trade. I am no Puritan. But when a woman
dresses beyond her means--above her social position--I regret the wise
old sumptuary laws which regulated these things in the days when a fur