Lesbia put the bills in her desk, and gave herself time to think, as Lady Kirkbank advised her.  But the thinking progress resulted in very little good.  All the thought of which she was capable would not reduce the totals of those two dreadful accounts.  And every day brought some fresh bill.  The stationer, the bootmaker, the glover, the perfumer, people who had courted Lady Lesbia’s custom with an air which implied that the honour of serving fashionable beauty was the first consideration, and the question of payment quite a minor point—­these now began to ask for their money in the most prosaic way.  Every straw added to Lesbia’s burden; and her heart grew heavier with every post.

’One can see the season is waning when these people begin to pester with their accounts,’ said Lady Kirkbank, who always talked of tradesmen as if they were her natural enemies.

Lesbia accepted this explanation of the avalanche of bills, and never suspected Lady Kirkbank’s influence in the matter.  It happened, however, that the chaperon, having her own reasons for wishing to bring Mr. Smithson’s suit to a successful issue, had told Seraphine and the other people to send in their bills immediately.  Lady Lesbia would be leaving London in a week or so, she informed these purveyors, and would like to settle everything before she went away.

Mr. Smithson appeared in Arlington Street almost every day, and was full of schemes for new pleasures—­or pleasures as nearly new as the world of fashion can afford.  He was particularly desirous that Sir George and Lady Kirkbank, with Lady Lesbia, should stay at his Berkshire place during the Henley week.  He had a large steam launch, and the regatta was a kind of carnival for his intimate friends, who were not too proud to riot and batten upon the parvenu’s luxurious hospitality, albeit they were apt to talk somewhat slightingly of his antecedents.

Lady Kirkbank felt that this invitation was a turning point, and that if Lesbia went to stay at Rood Hall, her acceptance of Mr. Smithson was a certainty.  She would see him at his place in Berkshire in the most flattering aspect; his surroundings as lord of the manor, and owner of one of the finest old places in the county, would lend dignity to his insignificance.  Lesbia at first expressed a strong disinclination to go to Rood Hall.  There would be a most unpleasant feeling in stopping at the house of a man whom she had refused, she told Lady Kirkbank.

‘My dear, Mr. Smithson has forgiven you,’ answered her chaperon.  ’He is the soul of good nature.’

‘One would think he was accustomed to be refused,’ said Lesbia.  ’I don’t want to go to Rood Hall, but I don’t want to spoil your Henley week.  Could not I run down to Grasmere for a week, with Kibble to take care of me, and see dear grandmother?  I could tell her about those dreadful bills.’

’Bury yourself at Grasmere in the height of the season!  Not to be thought of!  Besides, Lady Maulevrier objected before to the idea of your travelling alone with Kibble.  No! if you can’t make up your mind to go to Rood Hall, George and I must make up our minds to stay away.  But it will be rather hard lines; for that Henley week is quite the jolliest thing in the summer.’