“Your cousin brought her class of factory girls to my lecture to-night at the Secular Hall.”

Selina’s eyes narrowed a little, and she was silent for a moment.  Then she turned to her cousin.

“You might have told us, Mary,” she exclaimed, reproachfully.  “We should so much have liked to come, shouldn’t we, Louise?”

“Of course we should,” Louise answered, snappishly.  “I can’t think why Mary should go off without saying a word.”

Mary looked at them both and laughed.  “Well,” she said, “I have left the house at precisely the same time on ’Wednesday evenings all through the winter, and neither of you have said anything about coming with me.”

“This is quite different,” Selina answered, cuttingly.  “We should very much have enjoyed Mr. Brooks’ lecture.  Do tell us what it was about.”

“Don’t you be bothered, Brooks,” Mr. Bullsom exclaimed, hospitably.  “Sit down and try one of these cigars.  We’ve had supper, but if you’d like anything—­”

“Nothing to eat, thanks,” Brooks protested.  “I’ll have a cigar if I may.”

“And a whisky-and-soda, then,” Mr. Bullsom insisted.  “Say when!”

Brooks turned to Selina.  Mary had left the room.  “You were asking about the lecture,” he said.  “Really, it was only a very unpretentious affair, and to tell you the truth, only intended for people whose opportunities for reading have not been great.  I am quite sure it would not have been worth your while to come down.  We just read a chapter or so from A Tale of Two Cities, and talked about it.”

“We should have liked it very mulch,” Selina declared.  “Do tell us when there is another one, will you?”

“With pleasure,” he answered.  “I warn you, though, that you will be disappointed.”

“We will risk that,” Selina declared, with a smile.  “Have you been to Enton this week?”

“I was there on Sunday,” he answered.

“And is that beautiful girl, Lady Sybil Caroom, still staying there?

“Yes,” he answered.  “Is she very beautiful, by the bye?”

“Well, I thought men would think so,” Selina said, hastily.  “I think that she is just a little loud, don’t you, Louise?”

Louise admitted that the idea had occurred to her.

“And her hair—­isn’t it badly dyed?” Selina remarked.  “Such a pity.  It’s all in patches.”

“I think girls ought not to make up in the street, either,” Louise remarked, primly.  “A little powder in the house is all very well”—­(Louise had a nose which gave her trouble)—­“but I really don’t think it looks respectable in the street.”

“I suppose,” Selina remarked, “you men admire all that sort of thing, don’t you?

“I really hadn’t noticed it with Lady Sybil,” Brooks admitted.

Selina sighed.

“Men are so blind,” she remarked.  “You watch next time you are close to her, Mr. Brooks.”

“I will,” he promised.  “I’ll get her between me and a window in a strong north light.”