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See how tame he is! He will eat out of my hand,’ and snatching some macaroons from the tea-table, she stretched out her vigorous sunbrowned palm towards his moustache. He looked rather more foolish than usual for an instant; then entering into the spirit of the thing, he bent his curly head over her hand and nibbled the biscuit devoutly. (The resemblance was complete; one could almost see him sit up and beg.)

“Mrs. Austin seemed cheered by this little jeu d'esprit. She flung herself down on a foot-stool near me (I heard it creak distinctly—she must be quite eleven stone), and began to look over me with the candid criticism of an enfant terrible. There is no need to break the ice with her; the difficulty is to discover any thick enough to skate over, socially speaking.

“‘What funny long gloves you wear! Are they very expensive? That’s a very pretty hat; but I think you want more feathers. I know a girl who always steals her sister’s feathers when she goes out. She went to a garden party the other day with nine white feathers in her hat, and all the other girls had to stop at home because they could not find one in the house. Did you buy yours in London?’

“‘No, Paris. Madame Silvain, Place Ven-