on can afford. He was particularly desirous that Sir George and
Lady Kirkbank, with Lady Lesbia, should stay at his Berkshire place
during the Henley week. He had a large steam launch, and the regatta was
a kind of carnival for his intimate friends, who were not too proud to
riot and batten upon the parvenu's luxurious hospitality, albeit they
were apt to talk somewhat slightingly of his antecedents.

Lady Kirkbank felt that this invitation was a turning point, and that if
Lesbia went to stay at Rood Hall, her acceptance of Mr. Smithson was a
certainty. She would see him at his place in Berkshire in the most
flattering aspect; his surroundings as lord of the manor, and owner of
one of the finest old places in the county, would lend dignity to his
insignificance. Lesbia at first expressed a strong disinclination to go
to Rood Hall. There would be a most unpleasant feeling in stopping at
the house of a man whom she had refused, she told Lady Kirkbank.

'My dear, Mr. Smithson has forgiven you,' answered her chaperon. 'He is
the soul of good nature.'

'One would think he was accustomed to be refused,' said Lesbia. 'I don't
want to go to Rood Hall, but I don't want to spoil your Henley week.
Could not I run down to Grasmere for a week, with Kibble to take care of
me, and see dear grandmother? I could tell her about those dreadful
bills.'

'Bury yourself at Grasmere in the height of the season! Not to be
thought of! Besides, Lady Maulevrier objected before to the idea of your
travelling alone with Kibble. No! if you can't make up your mind to go
to Rood Hall, George and I must make up our minds to stay away. But it
will be rather hard lines; for that Henley week is quite the jolliest
thing in the summer.'

'Then I'll go,' said Lesbia, with a resigned air. 'Not for worlds would
I deprive you and Sir George of a pleasure.'

In her heart of hearts she rather wished to see Rood Hall. She was
curious to behold the extent and magnitude of Mr. Smithson's
possessions. She had seen his Italian villa in Park Lane, the perfection
of modern art, modern skill, modern taste, reviving the old eternally
beautiful forms, recreating the Pitti Palace--the homes of the
Medici--the halls of dead and gone Doges--and now she was told that Rood
Hall--a genuine old English manor-house, in perfect preservation--was
even more interesting than the villa in Park Lane. At Rood Hall there
were ideal stables and farm, hot-houses without number, rose g