"We'll see," I said, smiling.

For the Honourable Jim's faults may be as thick and as black as the
hairs of the Honourable Jim's head. But of this other thing I feel he
could not be capable.

"It used to be me that thought you was too hard on that Mr. Burke,
Smith. Now here you are turning round and won't hear a word against the
man," said my mistress, half laughing. "You're as pigheaded as Vi about
it! And, talking about Vi, here's this packet of golden hairpins she's
left in here; she was lookin' all over for them this afternoon. Better
take them in to her now."

It was on this errand that I entered the spare room that has been
assigned to London's Love.

She was sitting in a cerulean-blue dressing-jacket in front of the
looking-glass, drawing a tiny brush, charged with lamp-black, across her
eyelashes, and using "language," as she calls it, over the absence of
electric lights by which to dress.

"I shall look a perfect sketch at dinner, see if I don't. Not that it
matters a twopenny dash, me not being the bill-topper in any sense in
this revue," said England's Premier Comedienne cheerily. "It's the
pretty little lady's-maid's charming scena with the young bank manager.
Tell me, Smithie----" Here she turned abruptly round and looked at me
sharply. "Been thinking over his proposal, have you? Going to take him,
are you?"

"I--er----"

"I--er--shouldn't if I was you!"

"You wouldn't?" I said interestedly. "Why not?"

London's Love put down the make-up brush and scanned her own appearance
in the glass. Then she got up as if to fetch a frock out of the
wardrobe. But she paused, put a small, highly manicured but
capable-looking hand on each of my shoulders, and said, holding me so:
"You don't like him, Kiddy."

"Oh! But I do! So much!" I protested. "I think Mr. Brace is everything
nice ... I think he would make such a splendid husband! He's so steady,
and honourable, and sterling, and straight, and kind, and simple-minded,
and reliable, and----"

"Ah! Poppycock!" cried the comedienne, with her loud, indulgent laugh.
"You're just stringing off a list of aggravating things that a girl
might put up with in a man if--if, mind you!--she was head over ears in
love with him as well. But, great Pip! Fancy marrying a man for those
things!

"Why, what d'you suppose it would be like? I ought to know," she
answered herself before I, rather surprised, could say anything. "One of
those 'sterling' young men that neve