which were perfect. All the inkstains of his
youth had been obliterated, and those nails which had once been bitten
to the quick during the throes of financial study were now things of
beauty.

Lady Lesbia surveyed Mr. Smithson critically, and shuddered at the
thought that this person was the best substitute which the season had
yet offered her for her ideal knight. She thought of John Hammond, the
tall, strong figure, straight and square; the head so proudly carried on
a neck which would have graced a Greek arena. The straight, clearly-cut
features, the flashing eyes, bright with youth and hope and the promise
of all good things. Yes, there was indeed a man--a man in all the
nobility of manhood, as God made him, an Adam before the Fall.

Ah, if John Hammond had only possessed a quarter of Mr. Smithson's
wealth how gladly would Lesbia have defied the world and married him.
But to defy the world upon nothing a year was out of the question.

'Why didn't he go on the Stock Exchange and make his fortune?' thought
Lesbia, pettishly, 'instead of talking vaguely about politics and
literature.'

She felt angry with her rejected lover for having come to her
empty-handed. She had seen no man in London who was, or who seemed to
her, his equal. And yet she did not repent of having rejected him. The
more she knew of the world and the more she knew of herself the more
deeply was she convinced that poverty was an evil thing, and that she
was not the right kind of person to endure it.

She was inwardly making these comparisons as they strolled back to the
carriage, while Mr. Smithson and Lady Kirkbank talked confidentially at
her side.

'Do you know that Lady Kirkbank has promised and vowed three things for
you?' said Mr. Smithson.

'Indeed! I thought I was past the age at which one can be compromised by
other people's promises. Pray what are those three things?'

'First, that you will come to breakfast in Park Lane with Lady Kirkbank
next Wednesday morning. I say Wednesday because that will give me time
to ask some nice people to meet you; secondly, that you will honour me
by occupying my box at the Lyceum some evening next week; and thirdly,
that you will allow me to drive you down to the Orleans for supper after
the play. The drive only takes an hour, and the moonlight nights are
delicious at this time of the year.'

'I am in Lady Kirkbank's hands,' answered Lesbia, laughing. 'I am her
goods, her chattels; she takes me wh