smile. "May I sit down? Thanks!
I have called upon you in the hope that you may perhaps be able to give
me a little information in a private matter--a matter concerning the
happiness of a very dear friend of mine." She paused--Violet Vere sat
silent. After a minute or two, her ladyship continued in a somewhat
embarrassed manner--

"I believe you know a gentleman with whom I am also acquainted--Sir
Philip Bruce-Errington."

Miss Vere raised her eyes with charming languor and a slow smile.

"Oh yes!"

"He visits you, doesn't he?"

"Frequently!".

"I'm afraid you'll think me rude and inquisitive," continued Lady
Winsleigh, with a coaxing air, "but--but may I ask--"

"Anything in the world," interrupted Violet coolly. "Ask away! But I'm
not bound to answer."

Lady Winsleigh reddened with indignation. "What an insulting creature!"
she thought. But, after all, she had put herself in her present
position, and she could not very well complain if she met with a rebuff.
She made another effort.

"Sir Francis Lennox told me--" she began.

The Vere interrupted her with a cheerful laugh.

"Oh, you come from him, do you? Now, why didn't you tell me that at
first? It's all right! You're a great friend of Lennie's, aren't you?"

Lady Winsleigh sat erect and haughty, a deadly chill of disgust and fear
at her heart. This creature called her quondam lover, "Lennie"--even as
she herself had done,--and she, the proud, vain woman of society and
fashion shuddered at the idea that there should be even this similarity
between herself and the "thing" called Violet Vere. She replied
stiffly--

"I have known him a long time."

"He's a nice fellow," went on Miss Vere easily--"a _leetle_ stingy
sometimes, but never mind that! You want to know about Sir Philip
Errington, and I'll tell you. He's chosen to mix himself up with some
affairs of mine--"

"What affairs?" asked Lady Winsleigh rather eagerly.

"They don't concern you," returned Miss Vere calmly, "and we needn't
talk about them! But they concern Sir Philip,--or he thinks they do, and
insists on seeing me about them, and holding long conversations, which
bore me excessively!"

She yawned slightly, smothering her yawn in a dainty lace handkerchief,
and then went on--

"He's a moral young man, don't you know--and I never could endure moral
men! I can't get on with them at all!"

"Then you don't like him?" questioned Lady Winsleigh in rather a
disappointed tone.

"No,