precipitation into the farther part of the inner drawing-room, out of
her mother's sight. Ashe followed her, and she dropped panting and elate
into a chair.

Meanwhile the outer room gathered to hear the recitation of some _vers
de société_, fondly believed by their author to be of a very pretty and
Praedian make. They certainly amused the company, who laughed and
clapped as each neat personality emerged. Lady Kitty passed the time
either in a running commentary on the reciter, which occasionally
convulsed her companion, or else in holding her small hands over her
ears.

When it was over, she drew a long breath.

"How maman _can!_ Oh! how _bête_ you English are to applaud such a man!
You have only _one_ poet, haven't you--one living poet? Ah! I shouldn't
have laughed if it had been he!"

"I suppose you mean Geoffrey Cliffe?" said Ashe, amused. "Nobody abroad
seems ever to have heard of any one else."

"Well, of course, I just long to know him! Every one says he is so
dangerous!--he makes all the women fall in love with him. That's
_delicious_! He shouldn't make me! Do you know him?"

"I knew him at Eton. We were 'swished' together," said Ashe.

She inquired what the phrase might mean, and when informed, flushed
hotly, denouncing the English school system as quite unfit for gentlemen
and men of honor. Her French cousins would sooner die than suffer such a