rings—­onyx and the coolest looking intaglios set in filagree for warm weather—­fiery rubies and diamonds in massive bands of dull gold for winter.  He was said to devote half-an-hour every morning to the treatment of his nails, which were perfect.  All the inkstains of his youth had been obliterated, and those nails which had once been bitten to the quick during the throes of financial study were now things of beauty.

Lady Lesbia surveyed Mr. Smithson critically, and shuddered at the thought that this person was the best substitute which the season had yet offered her for her ideal knight.  She thought of John Hammond, the tall, strong figure, straight and square; the head so proudly carried on a neck which would have graced a Greek arena.  The straight, clearly-cut features, the flashing eyes, bright with youth and hope and the promise of all good things.  Yes, there was indeed a man—­a man in all the nobility of manhood, as God made him, an Adam before the Fall.

Ah, if John Hammond had only possessed a quarter of Mr. Smithson’s wealth how gladly would Lesbia have defied the world and married him.  But to defy the world upon nothing a year was out of the question.

‘Why didn’t he go on the Stock Exchange and make his fortune?’ thought Lesbia, pettishly, ’instead of talking vaguely about politics and literature.’

She felt angry with her rejected lover for having come to her empty-handed.  She had seen no man in London who was, or who seemed to her, his equal.  And yet she did not repent of having rejected him.  The more she knew of the world and the more she knew of herself the more deeply was she convinced that poverty was an evil thing, and that she was not the right kind of person to endure it.

She was inwardly making these comparisons as they strolled back to the carriage, while Mr. Smithson and Lady Kirkbank talked confidentially at her side.

’Do you know that Lady Kirkbank has promised and vowed three things for you?’ said Mr. Smithson.

’Indeed!  I thought I was past the age at which one can be compromised by other people’s promises.  Pray what are those three things?’

’First, that you will come to breakfast in Park Lane with Lady Kirkbank next Wednesday morning.  I say Wednesday because that will give me time to ask some nice people to meet you; secondly, that you will honour me by occupying my box at the Lyceum some evening next week; and thirdly, that you will allow me to drive you down to the Orleans for supper after the play.  The drive only takes an hour, and the moonlight nights are delicious at this time of the year.’

‘I am in Lady Kirkbank’s hands,’ answered Lesbia, laughing.  ’I am her goods, her chattels; she takes me wherever she likes.’

‘But would you refuse to do me this honour if you were a free agent?’

’I can’t tell.  I hardly know what it is to be a free agent.  At Grasmere I did whatever my grandmother told me; in London I obey Lady Kirkbank.  I was transferred from one master to another.  Why should we breakfast in Park Lane instead of in Arlington Street?  What is the use of crossing Piccadilly to eat our breakfast?’