Maulevrier laughed at this gloomy suggestion.

‘It is not easy to foretell the future,’ he said, ’but I think I may venture to promise that Molly will never wear your cast-off gowns.’

’Oh, you think she would be too proud.  You don’t know, perhaps, how poverty—­genteel poverty—­lowers one’s pride.  I have heard stories from Lady Kirkbank that would make your hair stand on end.  I am beginning to know the world.’

’I am glad of that.  If you are to live in the world it is better that you should know what it is made of.  But if I had a voice or a choice in the matter I had rather my sisters stayed at Grasmere, and remained ignorant of the world and all its ways.’

’While you enjoy your life in London.  That is just like the selfishness of a man.  Under the pretence of keeping his sisters or his wife secure from all possible contact with evil, he buries them alive in a country house, while he has all the wickedness for his own share in London.  Oh, I am beginning to understand the creatures.’

’I am afraid you are beginning to be wise.  Remember that knowledge of evil was the prelude to the Fall.  Well, good-bye.’

‘Won’t you stay to lunch?’

’No, thanks, I never lunch—­frightful waste of time.  I shall drop in at the Haute Gomme and take a cup of tea later on.’

The Haute Gomme was a new club in Piccadilly, which Maulevrier and some of his friends affected.

Lesbia went towards the drawing-room door with her brother, and just as he reached the door she laid her hand caressingly upon his shoulder.  He turned and stared at her, somewhat surprised, for he and she had never been given to demonstrations of affection.

‘Maulevrier, I want you to do me a favour,’ she said, in a low voice, blushing a little, for the thing she was going to ask was a new thing for her to ask, and she had a deep sense of shame in making her demand.  ’I—­I lost money at Nap last night.  Only seventeen pounds.  Mr. Smithson and I were partners, and he paid my losses.  I want to pay him immediately, and——­’

’And you are too hard up to do it.  I’ll write you a cheque this instant,’ said Maulevrier goodnaturedly; but while he was writing the cheque he took occasion to remonstrate with Lesbia on the foolishness of card playing.

‘I am obliged to do as Lady Kirkbank does,’ she answered feebly.  ’If I were to refuse to play it would be a kind of reproach to her.’

‘I don’t think that would kill Lady Kirkbank,’ replied Maulevrier, with a touch of scorn.  ’She has had to endure a good many implied reproaches in her day, and they don’t seem to have hurt her very much.  I wish to heaven my grandmother had chosen any one else in London for your chaperon.’

‘I’m afraid Lady Kirkbank’s is rather a rowdy set,’ answered Lesbia, coolly; ’and I sometimes feel as if I had thrown myself away.  We go almost everywhere—­at least, there are only just a few houses to which we are not asked.  But those few make all the difference.  It is so humiliating to feel that one is not in quite the best society.  However, Lady Kirkbank is a dear, good old thing, and I am not going to grumble about her.’