d a married one at Vienna, and
a position to keep up--I suppose that is the right expression--you will
find how impossible everything is, and you will find something else to
wonder about. Why--only look at that dress you are trying on!" The
grown-up daughter was Gwen's elder sister, Lady Philippa, the wife of
Sir Theseus Brandon, the English Ambassador at the Court of Austria.
Otherwise, her ladyship was rather enigmatical.

Gwen seemed to attach a meaning to her words. "I don't think we shall
ever have a daughter married to an Ambassador at Vienna. It would be too
odd a coincidence for anything." This was said in the most unconcerned
way, as a natural chat-sequel. What a mirror was saying about the dress,
a wonderful Oriental fabric that gleamed like green diamonds, was
absorbing the speaker's attention. The _modiste_ who was fitting it had
left the room to seek for pins, of which she had run dry. A low-class
dressmaker would have been able to produce them from her mouth.

The Countess assumed a freezing import. It appeared to await explanation
of something that had shocked and surprised her. "_We!_" said her
ladyship, picking out the gravamen of this something. "Who are 'We' in
this case?... Perhaps I did not understand what you said?..." And went
on awaiting explanation, which any correct-minded British Matron will
see was imperatively called for. Young ladies are expected not to refer
too freely to Human Nature at any time, and to talk of "having a
daughter" was sailing near the wind.

"Who are the 'We'? Why--me and Adrian, of course! At least, Adrian and
I!--because of grammar. Whom did you suppose?"

The Countess underwent a sort of well-bred collapse. Her daughter did
not observe it, as she was glancing at what she mentioned to herself as
"The usual tight armhole, I suppose!" beneath an outstretched arm Helen
might have stabbed her for in Troy. Neither did she notice the
shoulder-shrug that came with the rally from this collapse, conveying an
intimation to Space that one could be surprised at nothing nowadays. But
the thing she ought not to have been surprised at was past discussion.
Decent interment was the only course. "Who? I? _I_ supposed nothing. No
doubt it's all right!"

Gwen turned a puzzled face to her mother; then, after a moment came
illumination. "Oh--I see-ee!" said she. "It's the children--_our_
children! Dear me--one has such innocent parents, it's really quite
embarrassing! Of course I should