umed the neutral in
this important matter. She frankly enjoyed it all immensely.

"You know, Sir John," she said in confidence to him one day at
Hurlingham, "I have always dressed Millicent."

"You need not tell me that," he interrupted gracefully. "On ne peut s'y
tromper."

"And," she went on almost apologetically, "whatever my own feelings on
the subject may be, I cannot abandon her now. The world expects much
from Millicent Chyne. I have taught it to do so. It will expect more
from Millicent--Meredith."

The old gentleman bowed in his formal way.

"And the world must not be disappointed," he suggested cynically.

"No," she answered, with an energetic little nod, "it must not. That is
the way to manage the world. Give it what it expects; and just a little
more to keep its attention fixed."

Sir John tapped with his gloved finger pensively on the knob of his
silver-mounted cane.

"And may I ask your ladyship," he inquired suavely, "what the world
expects of me?"

He knew her well enough to know that she never made use of the method
epigrammatic without good reason.

"A diamond crescent," she answered stoutly. "The fashion-papers must be
able to write about the gift of the bridegroom's father."

"Ah--and they prefer a diamond crescent?"

"Yes," answered Lady Cantourne. "That always seems to satisfy them."

He bowed gravely and continued to watch the polo with that marvellously
youthful interest which was his.

"Does the world expect anything else?" he asked presently.

"No, I think not," replied Lady Cantourne, with a bright little absent
smile. "Not just now."

"Will you tell me if it does?"

He had risen; for there were other great ladies on the ground to whom he
must pay his old-fashioned respects.

"Certainly," she answered, looking up at him.

"I should deem it a favour," he continued. "If the world does not get
what it expects, I imagine it will begin to inquire why; and if it
cannot find reasons it will make them."

In due course the diamond crescent arrived.

"It is rather nice of the old thing," was Millicent's comment. She held
the jewel at various angles in various lights. There was no doubt that
this was the handsomest present she had received--sent direct from the
jeweller's shop with an uncompromising card inside the case. She never
saw the irony of it; but Sir John had probably not expected that she
would. He enjoyed it alone--as he enjoyed or endured most things.

Lady Cantou