ndabout fashion that Fay was quite
perplexed. She understood at last that he was talking about two girls,
who both seemed to influence him, and for whom he had special liking;
but for a long time she could not find out which was the chief
favorite.

She grew impatient at last in her pretty, imperious way, and put a
stop to his unsatisfactory rambling style of talk, by asking him a few
downright questions.

"You are terribly vague," she said, wrinkling her forehead in a wise
way, and folding her little white hands on her lap; they looked
absurdly dimpled and babyish in spite of the brilliant diamond and
emerald rings that loaded them. "How is a person to understand all
that rigmarole? Perhaps I am stupid, but you talk so fast, you silly
boy, and now tell me exactly what this Miss Selby is like; I think you
said her name was Evelyn."

"Oh! I am not good at descriptions," returned Erle, pulling Nero's
long glossy ears. "She is an awfully jolly girl, plenty of go in her,
lights up well of an evening, and knows exactly what to say to a
fellow--keeps him alive, you know; the sort of girl who will dance
like a bird half the night, and get up early the next morning and have
an hour's canter in the park before breakfast."

"Ah," in a mystified tone, "she seems a very active young person; but
you have not made me see her; is she tall or short, Erle?"

"Well, she is not the tall, scraggy sort, neither is she a diminutive
creature, like your ladyship. Miss Selby is medium height, and has a
good figure."

"Yes, and her face?" demanded Fay, with a baby frown; "you are very
bad at description, Erle, very bad indeed."

"Well, she is not dark," returned Erle, desperately, "not a brunette,
I mean; and she is not fair, like the other one, she has brown
hair--yes, I am sure it is brown--and good features. Well, I suppose
people call her exceedingly handsome, and she dresses well, and holds
herself well, and is altogether a pleasant sort of young woman."

Fay's lips curled disdainfully. "I do not think I admire your
description much, sir. Plenty of go in her; well, who cares for that?
and lights up well of an evening, as though she were a ball-room
decoration; I think she seems a frivolous sort of creature."

"Oh, no," replied Erle, eagerly, for this would not do at all. Fay's
little satire fell very short of the truth. "You have not hit it off
exactly; Lady Maltravers is frivolous, if you like--a mild edition of
the renowned Mr