re also undeniably unsanitary, but
the most irate critic could not have denied that they were becoming.
The skirts were of a soft, quaker grey, edged with a little foam of
flounces. No one wore flounces in that summer of hobble skirts! A
scarf of lavender chiffon was thrown round her neck, she wore a straw
hat of no particular shape, draped in no particular fashion, with an old
lace veil. Up the garden path she came between the two tall lines of
hollyhocks, a slight nymph-like figure, enveloped in cloud-like
draperies, with a glimpse of a small pale face between the dip of the
veil and the float of the scarf.

Martin and Katrine rushed together to the door, vociferous in greetings
and explanations.

"Grizel! We were going to meet you... You _said_ four-thirty! What
induced you to travel by the slow?"

"I _like_ them slow," drawled Grizel in her deep rich tones. She
trailed into the drawing-room, subsided on to an oak settee, the nearest
available seat, held up her face for Katrine's caress, and extended a
small hand to Martin with the air of an Empress bestowing an order.
This done she yawned undisguisedly, rummaged in a bag--another floating
accessory of violet satin--produced a minute purse, and asked with a
frown:

"What's his fare? Please ask him, Somebody, and pay him double. I
always pay double; then they don't swear. I do loathe being sweared.
With my money, please. No paupery!"

The deep drawling tone was in the oddest contrast with the
unconventional, not to say slangy mode of speech, but the listeners
betrayed no surprise. They were accustomed to the discrepancy, and in
common with the rest of the world enjoyed, the while they condemned.
Grizel's language grew ever more and more exaggerated and boy-like. She
really ought to reform! but on the other hand how much less amusing it
would be if she did!

"The full fare is two shillings. Tip him sixpence if you like, but to
give more is corruption. You shouldn't be cowardly, Grizel. It makes
things hard for other people."

Grizel blinked, and encouraged another yawn.

"Is that Socialism?" she drawled vaguely. "Have you caught it down
here? I'll join tomorrow, but don't expect a fellow to have principles
at the end of a journey. Give me crumpets!"

Lifting her arms she tugged at the two long, dagger-like pins with
amethyst heads, which held her hat in place, flipped it to the ground,
and blinked vaguely in Martin's face.

"Don't I loo