upon?' asked Lesbia, with an incredulous air.

'Mary will have her five hundred a year. And Hammond is a very clever
fellow. You may be sure he will make his mark in the world.'

'And how are they to live while he is making his mark? Five hundred a
year won't do more than pay for Mary's frocks, if she goes into
society.'

'Perhaps they will live without society.'

'In some horrid little hovel in one of those narrow streets off
Ecclestone Square,' suggested Lesbia, shudderingly. 'It is too dreadful
to think of--a young woman dooming herself to life-long penury, just
because she is so foolish as to fall in love.'

'Your days for falling in love are over, I suppose, Lesbia?' said
Maulevrier, contemplating his sister with keen scrutiny.

The beautiful face, so perfect in line and colour, curiously recalled
that other face at Fellside; the dowager's face, with its look of marble
coldness, and the half-expressed pain under that, outward calm. Here was
the face of one who had not yet known pain or passion. Here was the cold
perfection of beauty with unawakened heart.

'I don't know; I am too busy to think of such things.'

'You have done with love; and you have begun to think of marriage, of
establishing yourself properly. People tell me you are going to marry
Mr. Smithson.'

'People tell you more about me than I know about myself.'

'Come now, Lesbia, I have a right to know the truth upon this point.
Your brother--your only brother--should be the first person to be told.'

'When I am engaged, I have no doubt you will be the first person, or the
second person,' answered Lesbia, lightly. 'Lady Kirkbank, living on the
premises, is likely to be the first.'

'Then you are not engaged to Smithson?'

'Didn't I tell you so just now? Mr. Smithson did me the honour to make
me an offer yesterday, at about this hour; and I did myself the honour
to reject him.'

'And yet you were whispering together in the box last night, and you
were riding in the Row with him this morning. I just met a fellow who
saw you together. Do you think it is right, Lesbia, to play fast and
loose with the man--to encourage him, if you don't mean to marry him?'

'How can you accuse me of encouraging a person whom I flatly refused
yesterday morning? If Mr. Smithson likes my society as a friend, must I
needs deny him my friendship, ask Lady Kirkbank to shut her door against
him? Mr. Smithson is very pleasant as an acquaintance; and although I
don't