“You ought to keep her off balloons.  Balloons may be the ruin of her wedding-present to us, my child.”

“Dick!  How can you talk like that? ...  It’s all very well saying I ought to keep her off balloons.  You try to keep her off balloons when once she begins, and see!”

“What started her?”

“She said she was thinking of giving you old Mr. Baines’s gold watch and chain—­if you behaved yourself.”

“Thank you for nothing!” said Dick.  “I don’t want it.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Have I seen it?  I should say I had seen it.  She’s mentioned it once or twice before.”

“Oh!  I didn’t know.”

“I don’t see myself carting that thing about.  I much prefer my own.  What do you think of it?”

“Of course it is rather clumsy,” said Lily.  “But if she offered it to you, you couldn’t refuse it, and you’d simply have to wear it.”

“Well, then,” said Dick, “I must try to behave myself just badly enough to keep off the watch, but not badly enough to upset her notions about wedding-presents.”

“Poor old thing!” Lily murmured, compassionately.

Then Lily put her hand silently to her neck.

“What’s that?”

“She’s just given it to me.”

Dick approached very near to examine the cameo brooch.  “Hm!” he murmured.  It was an adverse verdict.  And Lily coincided with it by a lift of the eyebrows.

“And I suppose you’ll have to wear that!” said Dick.

“She values it as much as anything she’s got, poor old thing!” said Lily.  “It belonged to her mother.  And she says cameos are coming into fashion again.  It really is rather good, you know.”

“I wonder where she learnt that!” said Dick, drily.  “I see you’ve been suffering from the photographs again.”

“Well,” said Lily, “I much prefer the photographs to helping her to play Patience.  The way she cheats herself—­it’s too silly!  I—­”

She stopped.  The door which had after all not been latched, was pushed open, and the antique Fossette introduced herself painfully into the room.  Fossette had an affection for Dick Povey.

“Well, Methusaleh!” he greeted the animal loudly.  She could scarcely wag her tail, nor shake the hair out of her dim eyes in order to look up at him.  He stooped to pat her.

“That dog does smell,” said Lily, bluntly.

“What do you expect?  What she wants is the least dose of prussic acid.  She’s a burden to herself.”

“It’s funny that if you venture to hint to Mrs. Povey that the dog is offensive she gets quite peppery,” said Lily.

“Well, that’s very simple,” said Dick.  “Don’t hint, that’s all!  Hold your nose and your tongue too.”

“Dick, I do wish you wouldn’t be so absurd.”

Constance returned into the room, cutting short the conversation.

“Mrs. Povey,” said Dick, in a voice full of gratitude, “Lily has just been showing me her brooch—­”