er height and length of limb.

Miss Devereux respectfully argued that appearances were deceitful.
_Moddam_ was quite as sylphlike as the model. Might the dress be sent
to _moddam's_ cabin to try? Then it came out that _moddam_ was Lady
Eileen O'Neill, and the four tallest dryads visibly brightened, not so
much for the owner of the name as for her brother.

Their dull days had been dimly lightened by gossip on the ship,
brought to them by a stewardess from Lord Raygan's native isle, who
knew all about him: that he was an earl, that with his mother and
sister he had booked from Liverpool to Queenstown, but, owing to the
ferocity of the sea, had been unable to land and was being carried to
America. Also that a rich young American and his sister had given up
their suite to the ladies. This American was said to be of no birth,
the son of some big shopkeeper, and far, far outside even the fringe
of the Four Hundred; therefore the tallest dryads did their best
eyelash work for Lord Raygan. They were born British, hailing from
Brixton or other suburban health resorts, and now they knew he was a
"lord" the nickname of "Rags," which had sickened them at first,
seemed interesting and intimate as a domestic anecdote about royalty.

Rags consented to buy the dress for his sister if it fitted and didn't
cost a million pounds. The dryads thought this adorably generous, for
the stewardess, who knew all about Lord Raygan, said that the "family
had become impoverished; they were not what they had once been except
in name, which was of the best and oldest in Ireland." Stewardesses
can tell all the things that Marconi does not mention.

When the sale was settled Miss Devereux turned to Peter Rolls. "And
you, sir?" she asked, slightly coquettish because he was a man, though
not of the Four Hundred. "I suppose there's nothing we can do for
you?"

"I suppose not," Peter was echoing, when something occurred to him.
"Unless," he amended, "my sister would like to buy a dress. She's on
board."

"Would she care to look at Mme. Nadine's designs?" suggested Miss
Devereux. "We have wardrobes full of marvellous inspirations."

"The trouble is, she feels queer if she walks around much," said
Peter.

"Perhaps she would trust you to pick out something she might see in
her own room? Is she tall or short?"

"Not so tall as any of you."

"Things which would fit _this_ young lady would be the best, then.
Miss Child, Miss Vedrine will help you ou