the stairs, fell unconsciously into the amiable exchange of badinage
again; she taunting him with his undignified behaviour, he retorting in
kind.

"Anyway that was a perfectly dreadful verse you taught Billy," she
concluded.

"Not as dreadful as the chorus," he remarked, wincing.

"You're exactly like a bad small boy, Captain Selwyn; you look like one
now--so sheepish! I've seen Gerald attempt to avoid admonition in
exactly that fashion."

"How about a jolly brisk walk?" he inquired blandly; "unless you've
something on. I suppose you have."

"Yes, I have; a tea at the Fanes, a function at the Grays. . . . Do you
know Sudbury Gray? It's his mother."

They had strolled into the living room--a big, square, sunny place, in
golden greens and browns, where a bay-window overlooked the Park.

Kneeling on the cushions of the deep window seat she flattened her
delicate nose against the glass, peering out through the lace hangings.

"Everybody and his family are driving," she said over her shoulder. "The
rich and great are cornering the fresh-air supply. It's interesting,
isn't it, merely to sit here and count coteries! There is Mrs.
Vendenning and Gladys Orchil of the Black Fells set; there is that
pretty Mrs. Delmour-Carnes; Newport! Here come some Cedarhurst