tly during the last
weeks for the arrival of this pale and demure star. Now that she
had come their interest in her was keen. Her peculiar reputation for
ingeniously tricking Mrs. Bowdler, secretary to Mrs. Grundy, rendered
her very piquant, and this piquancy was increased by her ostentatiously
vestal appearance.

Lady Holme was sometimes clairvoyante. At this moment every nerve in her
body seemed telling her that the silent girl, who sat there nibbling her
lunch composedly, was going to be the rage in London. It did not matter
at all whether she had talent or not. Lady Holme saw that directly,
as she glanced from one little table to another at the observant,
whispering men.

She felt angry with Miss Schley for resembling her in colouring, for
resembling her in another respect--capacity for remaining calmly silent
in the midst of fashionable chatterboxes.

"Will she?" she said to Mrs. Wolfstein.

"Yes. If she'd never been shipwrecked she'd have been almost
entertaining, but--there's Sir Donald Ulford trying to attract your
attention."

"Where?"

She looked and saw Sir Donald sitting opposite to the large young man
with the contemptuous blue eyes and the chubby mouth. They both seemed
very bored. Sir Donald bowed.

"Who is that with him?" asked Lady Holme.

"I don't know," said Mrs. Wolfstein. "He looks like a Cupid who's been
through Sandow's school. He oughtn't to wear anything but wings."

"It's Sir Donald's son, Leo," said Lady Cardington.

Pimpernel Schley lifted her eyes for an instant from her plate, glanced
at Leo Ulford, and cast them down again.

"Leo Ulford's a blackguard," observed Mrs. Trent. "And when a fair man's
a blackguard he's much more dangerous than a dark man."

All the women stared at Leo Ulford with a certain eagerness.

"He's good-looking," said Sally Perceval. "But I always distrust
cherubic people. They're bound to do you if they get the chance. Isn't
he married?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Trent. "He married a deaf heiress."

"Intelligent of him!" remarked Mrs. Wolfstein. "I always wish I'd
married a blind millionaire instead of Henry. Being a Jew, Henry sees
not only all there is to see, but all there isn't. Sir Donald and his
Cupid son don't seem to have much to say to one another."

"Oh, don't you know that family affection's the dumbest thing on earth?"
said Mrs. Trent.

"Too deep for speech," said Lady Manby. "I love to see fathers and sons
together, the fathers trying to lo