y could come along and turn off
with a tap! Do you suppose that, when two people love each other as
Derek and I do, that it can possibly matter in the least what anybody
else thinks or says, even if it is his mother? I haven't got a mother,
but suppose Uncle Chris came and warned me against Derek...."

Her anger suddenly left her as quickly as it had come. That was always
the way with Jill. One moment she would be raging; the next, something
would tickle her sense of humour and restore her instantly to
cheerfulness. And the thought of dear, lazy old Uncle Chris taking the
trouble to warn anybody against anything except the wrong brand of
wine or an inferior make of cigar conjured up a picture before which
wrath melted away. She chuckled, and Freddie, who had been wilting on
the fender, perked up.

"You're an extraordinary girl, Jill. One never knows when you're going
to get the wind up."

"Isn't it enough to make me get the wind up, as you call it, when you
say absurd things like that?"

"I meant well, old girl!"

"That's the trouble with you. You always do mean well. You go about
the world meaning well till people fly to put themselves under police
protection. Besides, what on earth could Lady Underhill find to object
to in me? I've plenty of money, and I'm one of the most charming and
attractive of Society belles. You needn't take my word for that, and I
don't suppose you've noticed it, but that's what Mr. Gossip in the
_Morning Mirror_ called me when he was writing about my getting
engaged to Derek. My maid showed me the clipping. There was quite a
long paragraph, with a picture of me that looked like a Zulu
chieftainess taken in a coal-cellar during a bad fog. Well, after
that, what could anyone say against me? I'm a perfect prize! I expect
Lady Underhill screamed with joy when she heard the news and went
singing all over her Riviera villa."

"Yes," said Freddie dubiously. "Yes, yes, oh, quite so, rather!"

Jill looked at him sternly.

"Freddie, you're concealing something from me! You _don't_ think I'm
a charming and attractive Society belle! Tell me why not and I'll show
you where you are wrong. Is it my face you object to, or my manners,
or my figure? There was a young bride of Antigua, who said to her
mate, 'What a pig you are!' Said he, 'Oh, my queen, is it manners you
mean, or do you allude to my fig-u-ar?' Isn't my figuar all right,
Freddie?"

"Oh, _I_ think you're topping."

"But for some reaso