are say that Rashborough would
be on your side because he is of that peculiar class of silly billy, but
you may be sure that I shall not stand it. As a matter of fact, you
can't stay here, Beatrice. I rather like Richford; he gives me little
tips, and he has helped me over my bridge account more than once. If he
should come here to dinner----"

Beatrice rose, her pride in arms at once. It was put pretty well, but it
was cold, and hard, and heartless, and the gist of it was that Beatrice
was practically ordered out of the house. She had hoped to remain here a
few weeks, at any rate until she could find rooms. She was pleased to
recall that she had not sent her things.

"You need not trouble to put it any more plainly," she said coldly. "In
the eyes of your Smart Set, I have done a foolish thing, and you decline
to have me here for the present. Very well, I shall not appeal to Frank,
though I am quite sure what he would say if I did. All the same, I could
not tax the hospitality of one who tells me plainly that she does not
want me."

Beatrice rose and moved towards the door. With a little toss of her
head, Lady Rashborough took up the French novel she had been reading as
Beatrice entered. Thus she wiped her hands of the whole affair; thus in
a way she pronounced the verdict of Society upon Bee's foolish conduct.
But the girl's heart was very heavy within her as she walked back to the
_Royal Palace Hotel_. It was only an earnest of the hard things that
were going to happen.

And she had no money, nothing beyond a stray sovereign or two in her
purse. She had taken off most of her jewellery with the exception of an
old diamond bangle of quaint design. She hated the sight of it now as
she hated the sight of anything that suggested wealth and money. With a
firm resolve in her mind, Beatrice turned into a large jeweller's shop
in Bond Street. The firm was very well known to her; they had supplied
the family for years with the costly trifles that women love. The head
of the house would see her at once, and to him Beatrice told her story.
A little later, and with a comfortably lighter heart, she made her way
back to the _Royal Palace Hotel_ with a sum of money considerably over
two hundred pounds in her purse.

The manager of the hotel was sympathetic. Unfortunately the house was
full, but Beatrice could have Sir Charles's sitting-room and the
dressing-room where a bed could be put up. And would Mrs.
Richford--Beatrice sta