t Selwyn remain to dine, went
off to dress.

A few moments later he returned, crestfallen and conciliatory:

"I forgot, Nina and I are dining at the Orchils. Come up a moment; she
wants to speak to you."

So they took the rose-tinted rococo elevator; Austin went away to his
own quarters, and Selwyn tapped at Nina's boudoir.

"Is that you, Phil? One minute; Watson is finishing my hair. . . . Come
in, now; and kindly keep your distance, my friend. Do you suppose I want
Rosamund to know what brand of war-paint I use?"

"Rosamund," he repeated, with a good-humoured shrug; "it's likely--isn't
it?"

"Certainly it's likely. You'd never know you were telling her
anything--but she'd extract every detail in ten seconds. . . . I
understand she adores you, Phil. What have you done to her?"

"That's likely, too," he remarked, remembering his savagely polite
rebuke to that young matron after the Minster dinner.

"Well, she does; you've probably piqued her; that's the sort of man she
likes. . . . Look at my hair--how bright and wavy it is, Phil. Tell me,
_do_ I appear fairly pretty to-night?"

"You're all right, Nina; I mean it," he said. "How are the kids? How is
Eileen?"

"That's why I sent for you. Eileen is furious at being left here all
alone; she's practically well and she's to dine with Drina in the
library. Would you be good enough to dine there with them? Eileen, poor
child, is heartily sick of her imprisonment; it would be a mercy, Phil."

"Why, yes, I'll do it, of course; only I've some matters at home--"

"Home! You call those stuffy, smoky, impossible, half-furnished rooms
_home_! Phil, when are you ever going to get some pretty furniture and
art things? Eileen and I have been talking it over, and we've decided to
go there and see what you need and then order it, whether you like it or
not."

"Thanks," he said, laughing; "it's just what I've tried to avoid. I've
got things where I want them now--but I knew it was too comfortable to
last. Boots said that some woman would be sure to be good to me with an
art-nouveau rocking-chair."

"A perfect sample of man's gratitude," said Nina, exasperated; "for I've
ordered two beautiful art-nouveau rocking-chairs, one for you and one
for Mr. Lansing. Now you can go and humiliate poor little Eileen, who
took so much pleasure in planning with me for your comfort. As for your
friend Boots, he's unspeakable--with my compliments."

Selwyn stayed until he made peace with