look to the motive. I repeat, if I powder
and paint, it's not because I'm vain, but because it's my painful duty
to give you pleasure."

"And if it doesn't give me pleasure?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Call me stupid then--not vain. I ought to have done it better."

"In any case," said Ashe, "it's your duty to please us?"

"Yes--" sighed Kitty. "Worse luck!"

And she sank softly back in her chair, her eyes shining under the
stimulus of the laugh that ran through her circle. The Dean joined in it
uneasily, conscious, no doubt, of the sharp, crackling movements by
which in the distance Lady Grosville was dumbly expressing
herself--through the <i>Times</i>. Cliffe looked at the small figure a
moment, then seized a chair and sat down in front of her, astride.

"I wonder why you want to please us?" he said, abruptly, his magnificent
blue eyes upon her.

"Ah!" said Kitty, throwing up her hands, "if we only knew!"

"You find it in the tragedy of your sex?"

"Or comedy," said the Dean, rising. "I take you at your word, Lady
Kitty. To-night it will be your duty to please <i>me</i>. Remember, you
promised to say us some more French." He lifted an admonitory finger.

"I don't know any 'Athalie,'" said Kitty, demurely, crossing her hands
upon her knee.

The Dean smiled to himself as he crossed the room to Lady Grosville, and
endeavored by an impartial criticism of the new curate's manner and
voice, as they had revealed themselves in church that morning, to
distract her attention from her niece.

A hopeless task--for Kitty's personality was of the kind which absorbs,
engulfs attention, do what the by-stander will. Eyes and ears were drawn
perforce into the little whirlpool that she made, their owners yielding
them, now with delight, now with repulsion.

Mary Lyster, for instance, came in presently, fresh from a walk with
Lady Edith Manley. She, too, had changed her dress. But it was a
discreet and reasonable change, and Lady Grosville looked at her soft
gray gown with its muslin collar and cuffs--delicately embroidered, yet
of a nunlike cut and air notwithstanding--with a hot energy of approval,
provoked entirely by Kitty's audacities. Mary meanwhile raised her
eyebrows gently at the sight of Kitty. She swept past the group, giving
a cool greeting to Geoffrey Cliffe, and presently settled herself in the
farther room, attended by Louis Harman and Darrell, who had just arrived
by the afternoon train. Clearly she