She knew that the man was her slave—­slave to her beauty, slave to her superior rank—­and she was determined not to lessen the weight of his chain by so much as a feather.

‘Did not that promise imply something like love?’ he asked, earnestly.

’Perhaps it implied a little gratitude for your devotion, which I have neither courted nor encouraged a little respect for your talents, your perseverance—­a little admiration for your wonderful success in life.  Perhaps love may follow these sentiments, naturally, easily, if you are very patient; but if you talk about our being married before next year, you will simply make me hate you.’

’Then I will say very little, except to remind you that there is no earthly reason why we should not be married next month.  October and November are the best months for Rome, and I heard you say last night you were pining to see Rome.’

‘What then—­cannot Lady Kirkbank take me to Rome?’

‘And introduce you to the rowdiest people in the city,’ cried Mr. Smithson.  ’Lesbia, I adore you.  It is the dream of my life to be your husband:  but if you are going to spend a winter in Italy with Lady Kirkbank, I renounce my right, I surrender my hope.  You will not be the wife of my dreams after that.’

‘Do you assert a right to control my life during our engagement?’

’Some little right; above all, the privilege of choosing your friends.  And that is one reason why I most fervently desire our marriage should not be delayed.  You would find it difficult, impossible perhaps, to get out of Lady Kirkbank’s claws while you are single; but once my wife, that amiable old person can be made to keep her distance.’

’Lady Kirkbank’s claws!  What a horrible way in which to speak of a friend.  I thought you adored Lady Kirkbank.’

’So I do.  We all adore her, but not as a guide for youth.  As a specimen of the elderly female of the latter half of the nineteenth century, she is perfect.  Such gush, such juvenility, such broad views, such an utter absence of starch; but as a lamp for the footsteps of girlhood—­no there we must pause.’

’You are very ungrateful.  Do you know that poor Lady Kirkbank has been most strenuous in your behalf?’

‘Oh, yes, I know that.’

‘And you are not grateful?’

’I intend to be very grateful, so grateful as to entirely satisfy Lady Kirkbank.’

’You are horribly cynical.  That reminds me, there was a poor girl whom Lady Kirkbank had under her wing one season—­a Miss Trinder, to whom I am told you behaved shamefully.’

’There was a parson’s daughter who threw herself at my head in a most audacious way, and who behaved so badly, egged on by Lady Kirkbank, that I had to take refuge in flight.  Do you suppose I am the kind of man to marry the first adventurous damsel who takes a fancy to my town house, and thinks it would be a happy hunting ground for a herd of brothers and sisters?  Miss Trinder was shocking bad style, and her designs were transparent from the very beginning!  I let her flirt as much as she liked; and when she began to be seriously sentimental I took wing for the East?’