"Angelica!" she answered, forgetting, and hastily added: "Kennedy." "I don’t need anything this evening, thank you. Good night!" She turned away, completely at a loss. It was only half-past seven, hours before bedtime. What was she to do? She went into her room. It was as charming and comfortable as she had remembered it, but it offered no prospect of amusement. She didn’t know whether she ought to go into the library or any of the rooms down-stairs. She wanted to, but she had a dread of being spoken to by a servant. "Well, I’ll take a walk, then," she said. "No one can say a word against that!" She put on her jacket and her rakish big black hat, and went sauntering down the hall. She had to pass the open door of a room, and in it she saw Mr. Eddie, writing. He saw her, too. "Hello!" he cried. "Where are you going?" "Out for a walk." "Better not. It’s dark and lonely around here." Angelica had paused. "I’ve got to do something," she said. "Sit down and read," he said, rather impatiently. "I don’t like to read." "Nonsense! Here, come in! Sit down! I’ll give you something you’ll like." But she hesitated. His bedroom! Surely he didn’t expect her to go in there? He did, though. "Come in! Come in!" he cried, and she obeyed. She couldn’t really believe that there was anything evil or dangerous about this worried young man sitting before a desk covered with papers. He tapped the back of a big armchair. "Better take off your hat," he said. "It keeps off all the light." She turned over the pages of the book he gave her, pleased to see that it had a great many pictures, and began dutifully to read. In spite of herself she became interested. It was the third volume of a series, "Magnificent Women of the Past," and it contained sketches of the lives of the Empress Josephine, Mme. du Barry, Mme. de Montespan, Mary Stuart, Lady Hamilton, and many others. It was sensational, impossible stuff; but Angelica was neither a well-informed nor a discriminating reader. She was enthralled by this description of courts, of gallantry, of balls, fêtes, and levées, of kings, emperors, and princes; above all, by the radiant women who ruled over this amazing world. She went on, page after page, stopping only to study the portraits of the dazzling beauties. She had never imagined anything like this. Of course, she had studied what was called history in the public school, but that was entirely concerned with battles and treaties; not a word of woman, except, very rarely, an entirely respectable heroine. She had thought of kings and queens as rather dull and solemn persons, also concerned with battles and treaties. She had never conceived of such a passionate and colourful and exciting life as was revealed in this book. It was a life unfortunately impossible in this actual world.