'I assure you I have not seen Sybil for twenty-four hours, Lady
Clem. As far as I can make out, she belongs entirely to her
milliners.'

'Of course; that is the only reason you come to see an ugly old
woman like myself. I wonder you men don't take warning. On a fait
des folies pour moi, and here I am, a poor rheumatic creature, with
a false front and a bad temper. Why, if it were not for dear Lady
Jansen, who sends me all the worst French novels she can find, I
don't think I could get through the day. Doctors are no use at all,
except to get fees out of one. They can't even cure my heartburn.'

'I have brought you a cure for that, Lady Clem,' said Lord Arthur
gravely. 'It is a wonderful thing, invented by an American.'

'I don't think I like American inventions, Arthur. I am quite sure
I don't. I read some American novels lately, and they were quite
nonsensical.'

'Oh, but there is no nonsense at all about this, Lady Clem! I
assure you it is a perfect cure. You must promise to try it'; and
Lord Arthur brought the little box out of his pocket, and handed it
to her.

'Well, the box is charming, Arthur. Is it really a present? That
is very sweet of you. And is this the wonderful medicine? It looks
like a bonbon. I'll take it at once.'

'Good heavens! Lady Clem,' cried Lord Arthur, catching hold of her
hand, 'you mustn't do anything of the kind. It is a homoeopathic