She also was a young girl, good-looking, very dark and rather inclined to fullness in face and figure. When I say that she had handsome regular aquiline features, two thick curtains of black hair drawn over her ears, from which depended long ear-rings of imitation coral, it seems almost unnecessary to add (for this type of girl always dresses in the same way) that she wore a flat violet felt hat, the back of which touched her shoulders, a particularly tight dark blue serge coat and skirt, a very low collar, and lisle thread stockings which showed above low shiny shoes with white spats. In her hands she held a pair of new white gloves, unworn. She bounced in with a good deal of _aplomb_, and, without apologising for her lateness, began to chatter a little louder than most of the people present, and with great confidence. "No, not China tea, thanks. I prefer Indian. Oh, not cream cakes; I hate them. Can't I have hot tea-cakes? Thanks. I've no idea what the time is. I've been to Mimsie's studio. She would insist on doing a drawing of me, and I'm sitting to her"--she turned her face a little on one side--"like this, you know." "Is it like you, Miss Chivvey?" "Oh, good gracious, I hope not! At least I hope I'm not like _it_! I don't want to have a pretty picture, I'm sure. But Mimsie's awfully clever. It's sure to be all right. Do you know her? I must take you to her studio one day." "Thanks immensely," said Rupert Denison, a little coolly. "But--it may seem odd to you, but I haven't the slightest desire to increase my acquaintance at my age. In fact, do you know, I think I know quite enough people--in every set," he added. As he poured out some milk, she jumped and gave a little shriek. "Oh, _don't_ do that. I never take milk. What a bad memory you've got! Funny place this, isn't it?" She was looking round. "I don't think I've ever been here before." "Don't you like the plan of it?" he said, looking round at the walls and ceiling. "It may not be perfect, but really, for London, it isn't bad. It seems to me that anyone can see that it was designed by a gentleman." "You mean anyone can see it's not designed by an architect?" she asked, with a laugh so loud that he raised a finger. He then carefully introduced the subject of hats and advised her to go, for millinery, to Selfridge. They discussed it at length, and it was settled by his offering her a hat as a birthday present. She accepted, of course, with a loud laugh. Rupert, with his mania for educating and improving young people, had begun, about a fortnight ago, trying to polish Miss Chivvey. But he had his doubts as to its being possible; and he was, all the same, beginning to be a little carried away. She was sometimes (he owned) amusing; and it was unusual for him to be laughed at. How differently Madeline regarded him! However, he drove Moona home to Camden Hill and promised to meet her and help her to choose a hat.