. My mouth is parched and burning. Oh, Kibble!'
flinging her head upon the girl's buxom arm, and letting it rest there,
'what a happy creature you are--not a care--not a care.'

'I'm sure you can't have any cares, Lady Lesbia,' said Kibble, with an
incredulous smile, trying to smooth the disordered hair, anxious to make
haste with the unfinished toilet, for it was within a few minutes of
eight.

'I am full of care. I am in debt--horribly in debt--getting deeper and
deeper every day--and I am going to sell myself to the only man who can
pay my debts and give me fine houses, and finery like this,' plucking at
the _crepe de chine_ gown, with its flossy fringe, its delicate lace, a
marvel of artistic expenditure; a garment which looked simplicity
itself, and yet was so cleverly contrived as to cost five-and-thirty
guineas. The greatest effects in it required to be studied with a
microscope.

'But surely, dear Lady Lesbia, you won't marry Mr. Smithson, if you
don't love him?'

'Do you suppose love has anything to do with marriages in society?'

'Oh, Lady Lesbia, it would be so unkind to him, so cruel to yourself.'

'Cruel to myself. Yes, I am cruel to myself. I had the chance of
happiness a year ago, and I lost it. I have the chance of happiness
now--yes, of consummate bliss--and haven't the courage to snatch at it.
Take off this horrid gown, Kibble; my head is splitting: I shan't go to
dinner.'

'Oh, Lady Lesbia, you are treading on the pearl embroidery,'
remonstrated poor Kibble, as Lesbia kicked the new gown from under her
feet.

'What does it matter!' she exclaimed with a bitter little laugh. 'It has
not been paid for--perhaps it never will be.'

The dinner was silent and gloomy. It was as if a star had been suddenly
blotted out of the sky. Smithson, ordinarily so hospitable, had been too
much disturbed in mind to ask any of his friends to stay to dinner; so
there were only Lady Kirkbank, who was too tired to be lively, and
Montesma, who was inclined to be thoughtful. Lesbia's absence, and the
idea that she was ill, gave the feast almost a funereal air.

After dinner Smithson and Montesma sat on deck, smoking their cigars,
and lazily watching the lights on sea, and the lights on shore; these
brilliant in the foreground, those dim in the distance.

'You can telegraph to your Rio Janeiro friend to-morrow morning, if you
like,' said Smithson, presently, 'and tell him to send a first-rate
skipper and crew. Lady