dy to say that the companion was any worse, though
Lionel appeared to think so, than twenty other women who were her
sister's intimates and whom she herself had seen in London, in Grosvenor
Place, and even under the motherly old beeches at Mellows. But she
thought it unpleasant and base in Selina to go abroad that way, like a
commercial traveller, capriciously, clandestinely, without giving
notice, when she had left her to understand that she was simply spending
three or four days in town. It was bad taste and bad form, it was
_cabotin_ and had the mark of Selina's complete, irremediable
frivolity--the worst accusation (Laura tried to cling to that opinion)
that she laid herself open to. Of course frivolity that was never
ashamed of itself was like a neglected cold--you could die of it morally
as well as of anything else. Laura knew this and it was why she was
inexpressibly vexed with her sister. She hoped she should get a letter
from Selina the next morning (Mrs. Berrington would show at least that
remnant of propriety) which would give her a chance to despatch her an
answer that was already writing itself in her brain. It scarcely
diminished Laura's eagerness for such an opportunity that she had a
vision of Selina's showing her letter, laughing, across the table, at
the place near the Madeleine, to Lady Ringrose (who would be
painted--Selina herself, to do her justice, was not yet) while the
French waiters, in white aprons, contemplated _ces dames_. It was new
work for our young lady to judge of these shades--the gradations, the
probabilities of license, and of the side of the line on which, or
rather how far on the wrong side, Lady Ringrose was situated.

A quarter of an hour before dinner Lionel sent word to her room that
she was to sit down without him--he had a headache and wouldn't appear.
This was an unexpected grace and it simplified the position for Laura;
so that, smoothing her ruffles, she betook herself to the table. Before
doing this however she went back to the schoolroom and told Miss Steet
she must contribute her company. She took the governess (the little boys
were in bed) downstairs with her and made her sit opposite, thinking she
would be a safeguard if Lionel were to change his mind. Miss Steet was
more frightened than herself--she was a very shrinking bulwark. The
dinner was dull and the conversation rare; the governess ate three
olives and looked at the figures on the spoons. Laura had more than ev