erever she likes.'

'But would you refuse to do me this honour if you were a free agent?'

'I can't tell. I hardly know what it is to be a free agent. At Grasmere
I did whatever my grandmother told me; in London I obey Lady Kirkbank. I
was transferred from one master to another. Why should we breakfast in
Park Lane instead of in Arlington Street? What is the use of crossing
Piccadilly to eat our breakfast?'

This was a cool-headed style of treatment to which Mr. Smithson was not
accustomed, and which charmed him accordingly. Young women usually threw
themselves at his head, as it were; but here was a girl who talked to
him as indifferently as if he were a tradesman offering his wares.

'What a dreadfully practical person you are?' he exclaimed. 'What is the
use of crossing Piccadilly? Well, in the first place, you will make me
ineffably happy. But perhaps that doesn't count. In the second place, I
shall be able to show you some rather good pictures of the French
school--'

'I hate the French school!' interjected Lesbia. 'Tricky, flashy, chalky,
shallow, smelling of the footlights and the studio.'

'Well, sink the pictures. You will meet some very charming people,
belonging to that artist world which is not to be met everywhere.'

'I will go to Park Lane to meet your people, if Lady Kirkbank likes to
take me,' said Lesbia; and with this answer Mr. Smithson was bound to be
content.

'My pet, if you had made it the study of your life how to treat that man
you could not do it better,' said Lady Kirkbank, when they were driving
along the dusty road between dusty hedges and dusty trees, past that
last remnant of country which was daily being debased into London.
'Upon my word, Lesbia, I begin to think you must be a genius.'

'Did you see any gowns you liked better than mine?' asked Lesbia,
reclining reposefully, with her little bronze shoes upon the opposite
cushion.

'Not one--Seraphine has surpassed herself.'

'You are always saying that. One would suppose you were a sleeping
partner in the firm. But I really think this brown and buttercups is
rather nice. I saw that odious American girl just now--Miss--Miss
Milwaukee, that mop-stick girl people raved about at Cannes. She was in
pale blue and cream colour, a milk and water mixture, and looked
positively plain.'

CHAPTER XXVII.

LESBIA CROSSES PICCADILLY.

Lady Kirkbank and Lady Lesbia drove across Piccadilly at eleven o'clock
on Wednesday morning t