“I wonder you can look me in the face!” said Mrs Bagshot. Her eyes ran over Hero’s high-necked gown of worked French muslin, with its double flounce and rows of tucks. “Upon my word!” she said. “I dare say you have never worn such a dress in your life!”

This was an unfortunate observation, since it gave Hero the opportunity to retort: “You must know that I have not, cousin!”

“Whatever have you done to your hair?” demanded Cassandra. “You look so strange! I should — scarcely have known you.”

“It is the very latest fashion,” replied Hero. “My maid did it.”

Mrs Bagshot gave a short laugh. “Fine feathers make fine birds! I see that you have set yourself up in the very latest mode. I suppose we shall have you setting up your carriage, and renting your box at the opera, in imitation of your betters. When I consider — However, I did not come to quarrel with you, and heaven knows I am thankful to see you creditably established, even though you may have had to accept an offer made to you in a fit of pique to do it. I am sure it would not surprise me to find that you are now too grand to recognize the humble cousins who gave you a home when you were left destitute upon the world.”

“No,” said Hero seriously. “Indeed, I am not so ungrateful! And I would be glad to try to find husbands for my cousins, if I could, only Sherry says — ” She broke off short, colouring to the roots of her hair, the most comical expression of dismay on her face.

“And pray what may your husband say?” demanded Mrs Bagshot in menacing accents.

“I’ve forgotten!” said Hero desperately.

“I abhor prevarication,” remarked Eudora. “I am sure you need not fear to repeat what he said, for it does not matter a fig to us what such a rackety young man may say!”

Stung by this criticism of her idol, Hero retorted without hesitation: “Well, he said he wouldn’t have you in the house, because he doesn’t like you!”

Mrs Bagshot turned quite purple, and struggled in vain for words. Before she could find any at all adequate to the situation, Hero had said penitently: “Oh, I beg your pardon! But Eudora should not have said that about Sherry! Do, pray, sit down, Cousin Jane, and — and let me ring for Groombridge to bring some fruit, and a glass of wine!”

Mrs Bagshot coldly refused this offer of refreshment, but she condescended to seat herself on the sofa, remarking as she did so that she was sorry to see that her exalted position had not led Hero to mend her manners. Her daughters wandered about the room, inspecting the furniture, criticizing the colour of the hangings, and wondering how Hero could bear to have a canary deafening her with its odious noise. Hero replied to their strictures and exclamations with what patience she could muster, and tried to counter Mrs Bagshot’s extremely searching questions with dignity and civility.

She was succeeding very well when the door opened to admit Sherry, who came in all unawares, saying: “Here’s a damned thing, Kitten! That fool of a man of mine has lost my — ”

What Bootle had lost they were not destined to learn, for Sherry, perceiving the morning callers, broke off in midsentence, ejaculated: “My God!” in accents of horror, and retired precipitately.

Hero made a desperate attempt to keep her countenance, failed, and went into a peal of laughter. Her affronted relative rose majestically, and, addressing her daughters, said in a terrible voice: “Come, my loves! It is plain that we are not welcome in your cousin’s house.”

“Oh, pray do not take a pet, Cousin Jane!” begged Hero. “It — it is just that poor Sherry is not feeling quite the thing today! He will be sorry presently, I dare say.”

Mrs Bagshot, however, was adamant, and was in the act of delivering herself of a severe valedictory speech when a welcome diversion was caused by Groombridge’s announcing Lord Wrotham.

George came in with his usual impetuosity, and with the inevitable lock of raven hair straying across his romantic brow. He grasped his hostesses’s hand warmly, saying: “I heard you was come up from the country! How do you do? You look to be in famous shape! What a capital little place you have here! It is just the thing, Kitten!”

“Oh, George, I am so glad to see you!” Hero said. “Oh, do you — are you acquainted with Lord Wrotham, Cousin Jane?”

Mrs Bagshot bowed, but lost no time in shepherding her daughters out of the room. She was naturally unable to suppose that any man could look upon these damsels without experiencing a start of admiration, and although his lordship had the undoubted advantage of being a peer of the realm it was well known that his pockets were (in vulgar parlance) pretty well to let. She scolded Hero, who escorted her downstairs to the front door, on the impropriety of encouraging familiarity from so unstable a young man, and expressed the pious hope that the oddity of her manners would not be her ruin.

Having seen her relative off the premises, Hero sped upstairs again, and danced into the drawing-room, exclaiming: “Oh, George, I was never so glad to see anyone! She was scolding me dreadfully when you walked in upon us, and I thought she would never go! I don’t know where Sherry has hidden himself: only fancy! — he came in here, not having the least notion my cousins were with me, and he cried out My God! and ran out of the room! It was the drollest thing! Did you come to find him?”

“No, no — though I shall be happy to see him, of course! I came to pay my respects, and to leave my card, and to discover if you would care to watch a balloon ascension at three o’clock?”

Hero was naturally delighted with this proposal, and said that there was nothing she would like better. “How kind it is in you to be thinking of me, George! Indeed, I thank you very much!”

“No such thing! I assure you — Well, I thought perhaps you might not have witnessed the spectacle. It is an odd circumstance that Miss Milborne has not either. She has a great fancy to see it, only, as it chances, Mrs Milborne is engaged with some friends, and so the whole project must come to nothing, unless — ” a disarmingly ingenuous smile swept across his face — “Oh, hang it, Kitten, the long and the short of it is that if you would but offer to take her up in your carriage, I think Miss Milborne would like it excessively! If you could but persuade Sherry to make one of the party, nothing could be more snug!”

“George, you are the most complete hand!” Hero told him, borrowing from Sherry’s vocabulary. “I have a good mind to bring my cousin Cassy instead of Miss Milborne. How confounded you would look!”

“I swear you are the best of good fellows!” George exclaimed. “Well, no! I don’t mean that! What am I saying? I declare I am so up in the world today — or I shall be, if only you will send a note round to Green Street, to beg Miss Milborne to bear you company!”

“Well, I will,” promised Hero, sitting down on the sofa, and patting the place beside her invitingly. “But what has occurred to put you in such spirits? Isabella has not — oh, George, she has not accepted you?”

“No,” he said, the sparkle dying out of his expressive eyes. “No, not that, but — Look, Kitten!”

He thrust a hand into his pocket as he spoke, and drew out a small package. This he reverently unwrapped, disclosing a dejected pink rose, which was fast reaching the stage of decomposition.

Hero opened her eyes very wide as she stared at this relic, and then, glancing inquiringly up at George, said in an awed tone: “Did she give it to you, George?”

He nodded, his emotions for the moment making it impossible for him to speak. When he had cleared his throat, he said: “She was wearing a posy of them, pinned to her dress, last night. This one fell into her lap, and Severn — ” he ground his teeth at the recollection — “Severn had the temerity to demand it of her! As though he had but to ask, and she must submit to his wishes! I was within an ace of calling him to account, I can tell you! I must have done so, had not Miss Milborne given him such a set-down as — Kitten, she held it out to me, and said with the kindest smile, the most speaking expression in those glorious eyes, that I should have her rose, if I cared to take it! If I cared to! I slept with it beneath my pillow, and I shall carry it next my heart until I die!” He looked imploringly at Hero, and said with an effort: “She could not have done so had she not felt a preference — could she?”

“Oh no, indeed she could not!” Hero cried. “It must be certain! It is the most touching thing I ever heard! Oh, Sherry, is that you? Do, pray, come in, and see what Isabella has bestowed upon dear George!”

“Hallo, George!” said the Viscount, strolling across the room. “My God, Kitten, what a scrape you put me into just now!”

She gave an involuntary giggle. “I know. And if you could but have seen your own face! But never mind that now! Only look!”

The Viscount eyed the rose disparagingly. “Where’s the sense in keeping that?” he asked. “It’s dead. I see nothing at all wonderful in it.”

“But, Sherry, you do not understand! Isabella gave it to George last night!”

“Did she, by God?” said Sherry incorrigibly. “Lord, what a flirt the girl is!”

Lord Wrotham sprang to his feet, quick rage kindling in his breast. Hero, well accustomed by this time to his starts, shrieked: “George, if you call Sherry out, I won’t invite Isabella to go with us!”

His lordship paused, clenching his fists. “Sherry!” he said menacingly, “unsay those words!”

“Damned if I will!” responded Sherry. “You can’t call me out in my own house. Devilish bad ton! Besides, of course the Incomparable is a flirt! Nothing in that! I’d lay a monkey she did it to make Severn jealous. Don’t tell me he wasn’t there! You can’t humbug me, my boy!”