Lady Lawless had been watching the two strangers during the talk, though
once or twice she turned and looked at her husband admiringly. When he
had finished she said: "That is very striking. What a pity it is that men
we want to like spoil all by their lack of form!"

"Don't be so sure about Vandewaters. Does he look flurried by these
surroundings?"

"No. He certainly has an air of contentment. It is, I suppose, the usual
air of self-made Americans."

"Go to London, E.C., and you will find the same, plus smugness. Now, Mr.
Vandewaters has real power--and taste too, as you will see. Would you
think Mr. Stephen Pride a self-made man?"

"I cannot think of any one else who would be proud of the patent. Please
to consider the seals about his waistcoat, and the lady-like droop of his
shoulders."

"Yet he is thought to be a young man of parts. He has money, made by his
ancestors; he has been round the world; he belongs to societies for
culture and--"

"And he will rave of the Poet's Corner, ask if one likes Pippa Passes,
and expect to be introduced to every woman in the room at a tea-party, to
say nothing of proposing impossible things, such as taking one's girl
friends to the opera alone, sending them boxes of confectionery, and
writing them dreadfully reverential notes at the same time. Duke, the
creature is impossible, believe me. Never, never, if you love me, invite