l try to be even more ordinary than I already am."

Then she went slowly into the cottage.

That evening Lord Reggie told Mrs. Windsor that he found he must leave
for town on the following morning.

She was horrified, and was still more appalled when Esme Amarinth
expressed an intention of accompanying him.

"It's worse than the Professor's fit last year," she said dolefully.
"But perhaps it will be better if we all go back to town to-morrow. You
will not care to be rustic without any men, will you, Madame Valtesi?"
she added.

"No," replied that lady. "It would be too much like having a bath in
Tidman's salt, instead of in the ocean. It would be tame. We three women
in this cottage together should be like the Graiae, only we should not
have even one eye and one tooth between us. Perhaps we have been rustic
as long as is good for us. I shall go to the French plays to-morrow
night. I like them--they always do me so much harm."

"And I will take Tommy to the seaside," said Lady Locke.

"My dear lady," said Esme. "How terribly normal!"

"And how exceedingly healthy!" she replied.

He looked at her with a deep pity.

Next morning as she bade good-bye to Lord Reggie, she said to him in a
low voice--

"Some day, perhaps, you will throw away the green carnation."

"Oh! it will be out of fashion soon," he answered, as he got delicately
into the carriage.

"So you have been refused, Reggie," said Esme, as they drove towards the
station. "How original you are! I should never have suspected you of
that. But you were always wonderful--wonderful and very complete. When
did you decide to be refused? Only last night. You managed it
exquisitely. I think that I am glad. I do not want you to alter, and the
refining influence of a really good woman is as corrosive as an acid.
Ah, Reggie, you will not be singing in the woods near Esher when the
tiresome cuckoo imitates Haydn's toy symphony next spring! You will
still be living your marvellous scarlet life, still teaching the London
tradesmen the exact value of your supreme aristocracy. If you had become
a capitalist you might have grown whiskers and become respectable. Why
do whiskers and respectability grow together? Here we are at the railway
station. Railway stations always remind me of Mr. Terriss, the actor.
They are so noisy. The Surrey week is over. Soon we shall see once more
the tender grey of the Piccadilly pavement, and the subtle music of old
Bond Street will fa