“Not that there is anything special for me to do,” she said in an almost vexed voice as she flung herself into a chair in Nancy’s pretty boudoir. “It seems to me that these are the days for idle hands—at least, where rich people are concerned. Money commands willing labour. Money banishes fatigue; money destroys illusions. There was a time when I should have slaved myself to death to produce results which, by the magic wand of your money, Nance, can be made ten times more beautiful than any toil of mine could possibly effect. Well, never mind, you are the wife of the richest, the gayest, the most delightful man in the whole county. Ah, and here comes that angel of virtue to speak for himself. How go the festivities, my friend?” she continued, holding out her hand to Rowton, who entered the boudoir at that moment. “Swimmingly,” he replied, seating himself on a sofa near her. “There are so many people in the house that they entertain one another, and leave their host and hostess practically with nothing to do. As to the ball, I do not anticipate a hitch anywhere.” “There’s one thing left to settle, fortunately for me,” said Lady Georgina, “and that is this young lady’s dress. I have not yet seen her in the Dame Rowton costume.” “No more you have, and no more have I,” said Rowton. “The dress is all complete, is it not, Nance?” “I believe so,” she replied, somewhat indifferently. “Hester told me that a box arrived from Madame Delaroi, of Bond Street, last night.” “That genius, Delaroi!” cried Lady Georgina. “If Delaroi tries to get up the antique, then there is certain not to be a flaw in the costume. You sent her a photograph, did you not?” “We not only did that,” replied Rowton, “we had her down to examine the Gainsborough picture for herself.” “Once again, I must repeat, what will not money effect,” said Lady Georgina. She tapped her fingers playfully on the ivory handle of a large fan which she wore at her waist. “Come,” she said, turning to Nance, “you must put on your dress before the evening. Let me help you to do it now.” “I don’t want to,” said Nance, somewhat lazily. “But, my dear child, you must. Some trifling alteration may be necessary. Besides, I have come over to make myself useful, and useful I must be made. You will like to see the modern Dame Rowton when she is rigged out,” continued Lady Georgina, turning to Rowton. “We will ring for you when we are ready to show you the exhibition.” Nance rose to accompany Lady Georgina to her dressing-room. On the way there she suddenly stopped. “Now, what is the matter?” asked that good lady. “Nothing,” said Mrs. Rowton; “only sometimes I am sick of so much dress and so much money.” There was a wistful and very sad tone in her voice.