looking," "brilliant," "striking," "alluring." People spoke of Lady
Sellingworth's "good days"; and said of her, "Isn't she astonishing?"
The word "zenith" was occasionally used in reference to her. A verb
which began to be mixed up with her a good deal was the verb "to
last." It was said of her that she "lasted" wonderfully. Women put the
question, "Isn't it miraculous how Adela Sellingworth lasts?"

All this might, perhaps, be called complimentary. But women are not as
a rule specially fond of such compliments. When kind friends speak of
a woman's "good days" there is an implication that some of her days are
bad. Lady Sellingworth knew as well as any woman which compliments are
left-handed and which are not. On one occasion soon after she returned
to London from her tour round the world a woman friend said to her:

"Adela, you have never looked better than you do now. Do you know what
you remind me of?"

The woman was an American. Lady Sellingworth replied carelessly:

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"You remind me of our wonderful Indian summers that come in October. How
do you manage it?"

That come in October?

These words struck a chill through Lady Sellingworth. Suddenly she felt
the autumn in her. She had been in America: she had known the glory of
its Indian summer; she had also known that Indian summer's startling
sudden collapse. Winter comes swiftly after those almost unnaturally