horses with that peculiar intolerance towards their riders which the
very best groom in the world cannot refrain from showing.

'Won't you come in and take the chance of what there is for lunch?' she
said as Selwyn helped her to dismount.

'N-no, thanks,' he said.

She pouted, or pretended to. 'Now, why?' she said as Smith mounted the
chestnut, and touching his hat, walked the horses away.

'There is no reason,' he said, smiling, 'except---- Look here; will
you come downtown and have dinner with me to-night?'

'You Americans are refreshing,' she said, burrowing the toe of her
riding-boot with the point of the crop, 'As a matter of fact, I have to
go to dinner to-night at Lady Chisworth's.'

'Then have a headache,' he persisted.

'Please,' as her lips proceeded to form a negative.

'Some one would see us, and Lady Chisworth would declare war.'

'Then let us dine in some obscure restaurant in Soho.'

'There's no such thing, old dear. Soho is always full of the best
people dining incog. Almost the only place where you are free from
your friends is Claridge's.'