with him on a visit--and was a
bachelor. She also knew that Mallard was the editor of the _Champion_,
and was likewise a bachelor--in fact, she had acquired pretty well
all the information that could be acquired; her informant being the
talkative, scandal-mongering wife of the Episcopalian curate.

She was therefore highly elated when at four o'clock in the afternoon
Miss Grainger and her brother, and Mallard, after a brief inspection
of the rooms--which were really handsomely furnished--took three of the
largest and a private sitting-room, at an exorbitant figure, for a week,
and promised to be at the Villa that evening for dinner.

"He's immensely rich, Juliette," she said to her daughter (she was
speaking of Grainger after he had gone), "and you must do your best,
your very best. Wear something very simple, as it is the first evening;
and be particularly nice to his sister--I'm sure he's very fond of her.
She'll only be here a week, but he and Mr. Mallard will probably be here
a month. So now you have an excellent chance. Don't throw it away by
making a fool of yourself."

Juliette (who had been christened Julia, and called "Judy" for
thirty-two years of her life) set her thin lips and then replied
acidly--

"It's all very well for you to talk, but whenever I did have a
chance--which was not often--you spoilt it by your interference. And if
you allow Jimmy to sit at the same table with us to-night he'll simply
disgust these new people. When you call him 'Mordaunt' the hideous
little wretch grins; and he grins too when you call me 'Juliette' and
Lizzie 'Lilla.'"

Mrs. Trappeme's fat face scowled at her daughter, and she was about to
make an angry retort when the frontdoor bell rang.

"A lady wants to see yez, ma'am," said the "new chum" Irish housemaid,
who had answered the door.

"Did you show her into the reception room, Mary?"

"Sure, an' is it the wee room wid the sthuffed burd in the fireplace, or
is it the wan beyant wid the grane carpet on de flore; becos' I'm after
puttin' her in the wan wid the sthuffed burd? Anny way it's a lady she
is, sure enough; an' it's little she'll moind where she do be waitin' on
yez."

"Did she send in her card, Mary?"

"Did she sind in her _what_?"

"Her card, you stupid girl."

"Don't you be after miscallin' me, ma'am. Sure I can get forty shillings
a wake annywhere an' not be insulted by anny wan, instead av thirty
here, which I do be thinkin' is not the place to