have themselves mentioned once a month in that sort of rag!"

"What's her husband like?" Henry asked.

"God made him, but nobody knows why. I believe chorus girls call him
'Chummie.' That's his purpose in life. I say, Henry, there's a ripping
sketch of a new kind of engine in this paper. I wish you'd let me
explain it to you...."

"Who is her husband?" said Henry.

"Who is who's husband?"

"Lady Cecily Jayne's!..."

"Lordy God, man, you're not talking about her still, are you? Her
husband is ... let me see ... oh, yes, he's Lord Jasper Jayne. His name
sounds like the hero of a servant's novelette, but he doesn't look like
that. He looks like a chucker-out in a back-street pub. His father's the
Marquis of Dulbury. He's the second son. The eldest is sillier, but it's
all been hushed up. Anything else you want to know?"

"I'm just interested, that's all!"

"Her brother ... I told you, didn't I? ... was at Cambridge with us. He
came down a year before we did. As a matter of fact, he was sent down
and told to stay down. He ducked a proctor in a water-butt and the dons
were very cross about it. He's not a bad fellow. I think we'll ask him
round here one evening. Lady Cecily's very fond of him ... she used to
come up to Cambridge to see him ... before the affair with the proctor,
of course ... and Gilbert and I took her and another female out in a
punt once!"

Henry, who had been sitting in an arm-chair while Ninian told him about
Lady Cecily Jayne, got up and walked across the room.

"Gilbert was very upset when you mentioned her name," he said. "I
suppose her marriage was a blow to him?"

"Oh, I don't know. Look here, Quinny, if you're going to jaw any more
about this female, you can just hop off to your own room, but if you'd
like to hear me explaining these diagrams to you, you can stay...."

"Do you ever see Lady Cecily now?" Henry asked, ignoring what Ninian had
said.

"Now and again. Gilbert sees her quite often...."

"Does he?" Henry said eagerly.

"Yes. At first nights. She goes to the theatre a lot. Do you want to
meet her?"

There was some confusion in Henry's voice as he answered, "I should like
to meet her. You see, I've never known a really beautiful woman...."

"Aren't there any in Ireland?"

"Oh, yes. Plenty. Peasant girls, particularly!" He thought for a moment
or two of Sheila Morgan, and then hurriedly went on. "But I've never
known a really beautiful woman. You see, Ninian, ours is a