it a
moment sooner."

"Yes, but things are a little different now," Leonetta interposed.

"It would be unfair, grossly unfair, Edith," Cleopatra protested, "if
you let her come out earlier than I did. Particularly as I did my best
to make you and father let me, and you both absolutely refused."

Leonetta was now gently stroking her mother's hair. She would not trust
her eyes to look at her sister.

"Well, Peachy," she said, "surely you can't make a fuss about six
months, whatever you say, Cleo. After all, I'll be seventeen and a
half."

"Any way," Cleopatra snapped, "it won't be right."

"But what can it matter to you?" the younger girl demanded, glaring not
too amiably at her sister.

Cleopatra's face coloured a little at this question.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, and she moved towards the door. "I don't
care what you do."

"Where are you going to, Cleo dear?" Mrs. Delarayne enquired in a voice
fraught with all the sympathy she could not openly express.

"I'm going out to get a breath of air," replied Cleopatra without
turning her head; and she swept out of the room, performing as she went
those peculiar oscillations of the upper part of her body, which are not
unusually adopted by young women who are very much upon their dignity
when they retire. The oscillations in question consist in curving the
body sideways over small obstacles, such as chairs and tables, at the
moment of passing them, as if with an exaggerated effort to combine the
utmost care with the utmost rapidity of movement.

Mrs. Delarayne rose and went sadly to the window. Her eyes, full of
self-pity, gazed with unwonted indifference at the passers-by. How
thankful she would have been to have Mr. Delarayne at her side at this
critical moment in her life. There were times when she was not
unappreciative of the many advantages of widowhood; but this was not
precisely the moment when the bright side of her peculiar situation
seemed to be conspicuous. With Leonetta home for good, and Cleo still
unmarried, she felt the need of help and advice; and it was significant
that, as she became more and more aware of the practical usefulness that
the late Mr. Delarayne might have had at this juncture, her thoughts
turned rather to Lord Henry than to Sir Joseph Bullion.

She must speak to Lord Henry. He would know how to direct her.

A sound in the room disturbed her meditations. Leonetta, having
concluded a further examination of the Paris fashions, ha