But that was only a knack, you know."
His mother called him an excellent son,
and the Puseyite clergyman of the church
he attended, pronounced him a model to all
young men. His little bedroom at the top
of the house was stuck over with paltry
coloured lithographs of saints, and illuminated
texts in Latin. It was rumoured
among his sisters that he possessed a
rosary which had been blessed by the Pope.
He was being brought up to his father's
calling, and Mr. Lovegrove, who knew
what he was talking about, pronounced
that Gussy had a very fair head for
business; and that he understood that two
and two make four, quite as well as most
people.

"Here she is!" exclaimed Mr. Augustus,
as Maud approached. "We were just talking
about you, Miss Desmond, my lady
and I."

The intimation was not altogether pleasing
to Maud. She bowed with rather stiff
politeness and sat down next to her aunt.

"I was just saying to my lady,"
proceeded the gallant Augustus, "that their
painted hair has no chance beside yours.
They can't get the shine, you know." And
he slightly nodded his head in the direction
of the Misses Dobbs' apple-green skirts,
which were disappearing into the second
drawing-room.

Maud felt disgusted, and made no reply.

Lady Tallis, however, raised her
eyebrows and inquired with much interest,
"Do you, now do you think that those
young ladies dye their hair?"

"Not the least doubt of it, ma'am. I've
known Polly Dobbs ever since I was a
small boy. And when she was fifteen, her
hair was as brown as a berry. They both
came back from the Continent last year
with orange-coloured locks. Their mother
says it's climate that did it. It's the
kind of 'climate' they sell in the Burlington
Arcade at seven-and-six per bottle!"

"Really! You don't say so?" cried
Lady Tallis, not more than half
understanding him. "Well, I know that you
can get the waters—almost any foreign spa-
waters—in stone bottles, imported. But of
course when you talk of climate in bottles,
you're joking."

At this moment, greatly to Maud's relief,
for she began to find young Lovegrove
intolerable, a duet for harp and piano
was commenced: and there was enforced
silence among the company.

The players were Miss Lovegrove and
Miss Lucy Lovegrove. Miss Phoebe
Lovegrove turned over the music for her sister
at the harp; and Miss Dora Lovegrove
did the same for the pianist. The piece
was very long and not particularly well
executed. But Maud was sorry when it
came to a close, for whilst it continued she
could remain quiet and look about her
unmolested.

Her eyes were attracted in spite of herself
to a magnificently beautiful woman sitting
in a nonchalantly graceful posture on a
sofa, on the opposite side of the room.
She looked so different from all the other
persons present, and seemed to regard them
with such calm contempt, that Maud
found herself wondering who she could be;
how she came there; and above all, why
having come, she should be uncivil enough
to allow her face to express boredom so
undisguisedly.

No sooner had the duet come to a close,
than this beautiful lady rose, took the arm
of a gentleman, and came across the
drawing-room to where Lady Tallis and
Maud were sitting.

The lady and gentleman were Mrs. and
Mr. Frost. The latter bowed profoundly
to Lady Tallis, and begged permission to
present his wife to her.

"Most happy!—delighted!" said Lady
Tallis, holding out her hand. She had seen
Mr. Frost in Gower-street very often.

There was no difficulty in making my
lady's acquaintance. She began to chat
directly, with as much familiarity as though
the Frosts had been known to her all her
life.

Mrs. Frost appraised her ladyship's
attire with a glance, of whose meaning Lady
Tallis was happily unconscious.

Mr. Frost furtively watched Maud, and
at length, during one of the rare pauses in
Lady Tallis's flow of talk, said hesitatingly,
—"Your niece, is it not?"

"Indeed and in truth she is my niece,
Mr. Frost, and a great blessing and comfort
it is to have her with me! Maud, my
darling, this is Mrs. Frost. Mr. Frost, Miss
Desmond."

Mr. Frost sat down beside the young
lady and began to talk to her. He perceived
at once that she was very different in every
respect from her aunt. It was quite
impossible to jump into terms of familiarity
with Maud Desmond.

"You have been ill, I was sorry to learn,"
said Mr. Frost.

"I was a little ill: very slightly. I am
quite well now, thank you."

"Perhaps London does not altogether