ll
him?"

"I don't know, sir," said the porter.

"Find out for me, will you?" said the four-in-hand young man.

Then he turned round and saw me (again followed by my sidling employer)
making my way towards the entrance.

He raised his hat in a rather empresse manner as he allowed us to pass.

"Oh, Miss--I mean, oh, Smith! Isn't he handsome?" breathed Million as we
got out into the Strand. "Did you notice what a lovely smile he'd got?"

I said rather chillingly: "I didn't very much like the look of him."

And I'm going to try and stop Million from liking the look of that sort
of young man. Fortune-hunters, beware!

CHAPTER X

AN ORGY OF SHOPPING!

OH, what an afternoon we've had!

Talk about "one crowded hour of glorious life." Well, Million and I have
had from two to six; that is, four crowded glorious hours of shopping! I
scarcely know where we've been, except that they were all the most
expensive places. Any woman who reads this story will understand me when
I say I made a bee-line for those shops that don't put very much in the
show-window.

Just one perfect gown on a stand, perhaps, one filmy dream of a lingerie
blouse, a pair of silk stockings that looked as if they'd been fashioned
by the fairies out of spun sunset, and a French girl's name splashed in
bold white letters across the pane--that was the sort of decoration of
the establishments patronised by Miss Million and her maid.

As before, the maid (myself) had to do all the ordering, while the
heiress shrank and slunk and cowered in the background. For poor little
Million was really too overawed for words by those supercilious and slim
young duchesses in black satin, the shop assistants who glided towards
us with a haughty "What may I show you, Moddom?" From "undies" (all
silk) to corsets (supple perfection!), through ready-made costumes to
afternoon frocks and blouses and hats and evening-gowns I made my
relentless way.

After the first few gasps from Million of "Oh, far too expensive.... Oh,
Miss!... Haven't they any cheaper than.... Twenty? Lor'! Does she mean
twenty shillings, Miss Beatrice? What! Twenty pounds? Oh, we can't----"
I left off asking the prices of things. I simply selected the garments
or the hats that looked the sweetest and harmonised the best with my new
employer's black hair and bright grey frightened eyes. I heard myself
saying with a new note of authority