m marrying Lord Maulevrier's granddaughter? My grandfather
was a distinguished man--Governor of Madras. Such posts are not given to
nobodies. How can you dare to speak as if it were a disgrace to me to
belong to him?'

CHAPTER XXVIII.

'CLUBS, DIAMONDS, HEARTS, IN WILD DISORDER SEEN.'

Lady Kirkbank had considerable difficulty in smoothing Lesbia's ruffled
plumage. She did all in her power to undo the effect of her rash
words--declared that she had been carried away by temper--she had spoken
she knew not what--words of no meaning. Of course Lesbia's grandfather
had been a great man--Governor of Madras; altogether an important and
celebrated person--and Lady Kirkbank had meant nothing, could have meant
nothing to his disparagement.

'My dearest girl, I was beside myself, and talked sheer nonsense,' said
Georgie. 'But you know really now, dearest, any woman of the world would
be provoked at your foolish refusal of that dear good Smithson. Only
think of that too lovely house in Park Lane, a palace in the style of
the Italian Renaissance--such a house is in itself equivalent to a
peerage--and there is no doubt Smithson will be offered a peerage before
he is much older. I have heard it confidently asserted that when the
present Ministry retires Smithson will be made a Peer. You have no idea
what a useful man he is, or what henchman's service he has done the
Ministry in financial matters. And then there is his villa at
Deauville--you don't know Deauville--a positively perfect place, the
villa, I mean, built by the Duke de Morny in the golden days of the
Empire--and another at Cowes, and his palace in Berkshire, a manor, my
love, with a glorious old Tudor manor-house; and he has a _pied a terre_
in Paris, in the Faubourg, a ground-floor furnished in the Pompeian
style, half-a-dozen rooms opening one out of the other, and surrounding
a small garden, with a fountain in the middle. Some of the greatest
people in Paris occupy the upper part of the house, and their rooms of
course are splendid; but Smithson's ground-floor is the gem of the
Faubourg. However, I suppose there is no use in talking any more; for
there is the gong for luncheon.'

Lesbia was in no humour for luncheon.

'I would rather have a cup of tea in my own room,' she said. 'This
Smithson business has given me an abominable headache.'

'But you will go to hear Metzikoff?'

'No, thanks. You detest the Duchess of Lostwithiel, and you don't care
for p