es, I want her to contrast with me as if I'd
taken any amount of trouble about my own appearance and none about hers.
It'll make him pity her a little, and think how well she'd look in the
sort of clothes he could give her. Besides, I myself am not going to be
very smart--just tidy."

"Paquin?"

"How clever of you to guess! Well, now I must go and see Harry and hear
all about the dinner, and tell him how sorry you are you can't come. And
you're going to lunch at the Club, aren't you? And won't you go and dine
with your mother on that evening?"

"I may as well."

"_Do_, Romer dear! I can't bear you to neglect her, although I never
think it's safe to let you dine with her without me. She always takes
advantage of my absence to be horrid about me, and then you _will_
defend me, although I've implored you not to heaps of times, and then
you quarrel. If, this time, she says I'm frivolous and worldly and an
utter fool and very deep, you must agree with every word. I'm so fond
of her, she's such a dear thing, it's too bad to worry her by
contradicting her, and she has such a vile temper! Telephone and invite
yourself--a pressing invitation, and give her my very best love."

Romer promised all she asked and then went out to the Club.

Valentia watched him through the window as he went. She thought he
looked very well through a window, and ought by rights always to be seen
in that way--as it were, under glass. She felt quite proud of him, of
his smart appearance. In his way, he was an elaborate dandy, and spent
years at his tailor's, slowly choosing the right thing. She remembered
she had married him chiefly because of his fine presence and mysterious
silence. She had thought at the time there must be so much at the back
of it all, so much in him. He was in love with her and seemed difficult
to understand. What could be more attractive? And now--well, he was
ideally kind and good-natured. And she certainly felt sometimes that she
couldn't even yet quite make him out. Then she gave a slight sigh, went
to the door and called Daphne.

Daphne came in, trimming a hat. She had lived with the Wyburns ever
since their marriage five years ago, and Valentia, having no children
and a most passionately tender disposition--far too much natural
affection to expend on Romer alone--lavished devotion on her sister. And
Daphne was so nice and so pretty, almost as pretty as herself, in a
satisfactorily different way. Valentia with her shor