The fly stopped at the gate, the flyman alighted, and prompted by a sweet expectancy in Grizel's eye, rose to a height of gallantry hitherto unknown, and offered his arm to assist her to alight. Grizel leaned heavily upon it, and having languidly descended to the level of the pavement, dropped her uplifted skirts and trailed slowly towards the house. In contradiction to the fashion of the day the skirts were trained both back and front, they floated round her in a soft billowy cloud, trailing in their wake a little shower of pebbly stones. They were most unfashionable skirts, for a railway journey they were ridiculously inappropriate; they were also undeniably unsanitary, but the most irate critic could not have denied that they were becoming. The skirts were of a soft, quaker grey, edged with a little foam of flounces. No one wore flounces in that summer of hobble skirts! A scarf of lavender chiffon was thrown round her neck, she wore a straw hat of no particular shape, draped in no particular fashion, with an old lace veil. Up the garden path she came between the two tall lines of hollyhocks, a slight nymph-like figure, enveloped in cloud-like draperies, with a glimpse of a small pale face between the dip of the veil and the float of the scarf. Martin and Katrine rushed together to the door, vociferous in greetings and explanations. "Grizel! We were going to meet you... You _said_ four-thirty! What induced you to travel by the slow?" "I _like_ them slow," drawled Grizel in her deep rich tones. She trailed into the drawing-room, subsided on to an oak settee, the nearest available seat, held up her face for Katrine's caress, and extended a small hand to Martin with the air of an Empress bestowing an order. This done she yawned undisguisedly, rummaged in a bag--another floating accessory of violet satin--produced a minute purse, and asked with a frown: "What's his fare? Please ask him, Somebody, and pay him double. I always pay double; then they don't swear. I do loathe being sweared. With my money, please. No paupery!" The deep drawling tone was in the oddest contrast with the unconventional, not to say slangy mode of speech, but the listeners betrayed no surprise. They were accustomed to the discrepancy, and in common with the rest of the world enjoyed, the while they condemned. Grizel's language grew ever more and more exaggerated and boy-like. She really ought to reform! but on the other hand how much less amusing it would be if she did! "The full fare is two shillings. Tip him sixpence if you like, but to give more is corruption. You shouldn't be cowardly, Grizel. It makes things hard for other people." Grizel blinked, and encouraged another yawn. "Is that Socialism?" she drawled vaguely. "Have you caught it down here? I'll join tomorrow, but don't expect a fellow to have principles at the end of a journey. Give me crumpets!"