Now, Mrs. Lorraine had intended to tell this young man something about the girl whom he was to take in to dinner, but she herself had been so occupied with Sheila that the opportunity escaped her. Lord Arthur accordingly knew only that he was beside a very pretty woman, who was a Mrs. Somebody--the exact name he had not caught--and that the few words she had spoken were pronounced in a curious way. Probably, he thought, she was from Dublin. He also arrived at the conclusion that she was too pretty to know anything about the Deceased Wife’s Sister bill, in which he was, for family reasons, deeply interested, and considered it more likely that she would prefer to talk about theatres and such things. “Were you at Covent Garden last night?” he said. “No,” answered Sheila. “But I was there two days ago, and it is very pretty to see the flowers and the fruit; and then they smell so sweetly as you walk through.” “Oh, yes, it is delightful,” said Lord Arthur. “But I was speaking of the theatre.” “Is there a theatre in there?” He stared at her, and inwardly hoped she was not mad. “Not in among the shops, no. But don’t you know Covent Garden Theatre?” “I have never been in any theatre, not yet,” said Sheila. And then it began to dawn upon him that he must be talking to Frank Lavender’s wife. Was there not some rumor about the girl having come from a remote part of the Highlands? He determined on a bold stroke: “You have not been long enough in London to see the theatres, I suppose?”