g taken her at her word. Two thousand pounds! Yes, it certainly is
rather stiff.'

'Seraphine is a cheat!' exclaimed Lesbia, angrily. 'Her prices are
positively exorbitant!'

'My dear child, you must not say that. Seraphine is positively moderate
in comparison with the new people.'

'And Mr. Cabochon, too. The idea of his charging me three hundred
guineas for re-setting those stupid old amethysts.'

'My dear, you _would_ have diamonds mixed with them,' said Lady
Kirkbank, reproachfully.

Lesbia turned away her head with an impatient sigh. She remembered
perfectly that it was Lady Kirkbank who had persuaded her to order the
diamond setting; but there was no use in talking about it now. The thing
was done. She was two thousand pounds in debt--two thousand pounds to
these two people only--and there were ever so many shops at which she
had accounts--glovers, bootmakers, habit-makers, the tailor who made her
Newmarket coats and cloth gowns, the stationer who supplied her with
note-paper of every variety, monogrammed, floral; sporting, illuminated
with this or that device, the follies of the passing hour, hatched by
penniless Invention in a garret, pandering to the vanities of the idle.

'I must write to my grandmother by this afternoon's post,' said Lesbia,
with a heavy sigh.

'Impossible. We have to be at the Ranelagh by four o'clock. Smithson
and some other men are to meet us there. I have promised to drive Mrs.
Mostyn down. You had better begin to dress.'

'But I ought to write to-day. I had better ask for this money at once,
and have done with it. Two thousand pounds! I feel as if I were a thief.
You say my grandmother is not a rich woman?'

'Not rich as the world goes nowadays. Nobody is rich now, except your
commercial magnates, like Smithson. Great peers, unless their money is
in London ground-rents, are great paupers. To own land is to be
destitute. I don't suppose two thousand pounds will break your
grandmother's bank; but of course it is a large sum to ask for at the
end of two months; especially as she sent you a good deal of money while
we were at Cannes. If you were engaged--about to make a really good
match--you could ask for the money as a matter of course; but as it is,
although you have been tremendously admired, from a practical point of
view you are a failure.'

A failure. It was a hard word, but Lesbia felt it was true. She, the
reigning beauty, the cynosure of every eye, had made no conquest