remarked to Lady Turnour; but she was
flattered rather than annoyed by the criticism, and sailed away
good-natured, leaving me to gather up the few jewels of her collection
which she had discarded. Lately I had been trusted with her treasures,
and felt the responsibility disagreeably, especially as my
mistress--when she remembered it--counted everything ostentatiously
over, after relieving me of my charge.

To-night I had just begun picking up the brooches, bracelets, diamond
stars, coronets and bursting suns which illuminated the dressing-table
firmament, when Bertie walked in again, through the door that he had
left ajar.

"I came back because my necktie's a failure," said he. "My man must be
in love, I should think. Probably with you! Anyhow, something's the
matter; his fingers are all thumbs. But you turned out my old governor
rippin'ly. You'll do me, won't you?"

As he spoke, he untied his cravat, and produced another.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know how to do _that_ kind of tie."

"What--what?" he stared. "It's just the same as the governor's--only a
little better. Come along, there's a dear." He had pushed the door to;
now he shut it.

I walked to the other end of the room, and began folding a blouse.
"You'd better give your valet another trial," I said. "I'm _not_ a
valet. I'm Lady Turnour's maid."

"She's in luck to get you."

"I'm engaged to wait upon _her_."

"You are stiff! You do the governor's tie."

"Sir Samuel's very kind to me."

"Well, I'll be kind, too. I'd like nothing better. I'll be a lot kinder
than he'd dare to be. I say, I've got a present for you--something
rippin', that you'll like. You can wear it at the ball to-night, but
you'd better not tell anyone who gave it to you--what? You shall have
it for tyin' my necktie. Now, don't you call that 'kind'?"

I stopped folding the blouse, and increased my height by at least an
inch. "No," I said, "I call it impertinent, and I shall be obliged if
you will leave Lady Turnour's room. That's the only thing you can do for
me."

"By Jove!" said Bertie. "What theatre were you at before you took to
lady's maidin'?"

To this I deigned no answer.

"Anyhow, you're a rippin' little actress."

Silence.

"And a pretty girl. As pretty as they make 'em."

I invented a new kind of sigh, a cross between a snarl and a moan.

"Tell me, what's the mystery? There is a mystery about you, you know.
Not a bit of good tryin' to deceive me.... You