’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. They talked of a new substitute for dripping in vegetarian cookery that Mrs. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. ’ ‘But I can’t leave you, miss. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. "What have you seen?" inquired Lady Trafford. “What ought you to do?” He began to produce his knowledge of the world for her benefit, jerkily and allusively, and with a strong, rank flavor of “savoir faire. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said.
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