ull of sympathy and fellow-feeling, now she was the
Lady Cassandra Raynor, entertaining an insignificant guest.

"It's all delightful; quite delightful. So there is nothing to delay
your movements! Can I give you any addresses? I know of quite a good
hotel in Paris, where I stay when I run over to buy frocks. Not too
fashionable, but very comfortable. Quite ideal for a woman alone. And
dressmakers too." Cassandra thawed again at the introduction of a
congenial subject. "_Do_ go to my woman! She's the most understanding
creature, and knows exactly what will suit you before you have been in
the room five minutes." She screwed up her eyes, and looked Mary over
with critical gaze. "I think it will be blue for you; a deep full blue,
and just a touch of white at the throat."

"I've worn blue serge coats and skirts almost every day of my life since
I went to school. I'm sick of blue," Mary said, and Cassandra laughed
and shuddered at the same moment. It was so preposterous to compare
Mary's blue serge with Celine's marvellous concoctions of subtly blended
shades.

"I'd make a solemn vow never to wear another! I'm a great believer in
the influence of clothes. They account for many of the mysteries of
human nature. You know how conventional men are,--how horrified at
anything the least bit out of the ordinary rut.--It's because they have
always to wear coats and trousers cut in the same way, out of the same
uninteresting cloths! They never know the complete _bouleversement_ of
feeling which a woman experiences every day of her life when she changes
from one style of garment to another. You put on a blouse and skirt,
and you feel active and gamy; you slip into a tea-gown, and want to talk
confidences with a friend; you put on _decolletee_, and feel inclined to
flirt, and be frivolous; you wear a tailor-made costume and--go to
church! Chronic blue serge would depress a saint. Do go to Celine,
Miss Mallison! Let me send you the address!"

"I've not decided to go to Paris," Mary said ungraciously, but the next
moment she lifted her eyes to Cassandra's face and gave a weak little
smile of apology. "I've not decided anything. Not even where to go
first. I don't seem to care. You talk about seeing the world, but I
don't particularly want to see it. Now that I can go where I choose,
I've been trying to think of an interesting place--a place that
interests me, I mean, but I can't do it. I've hardly been outs