"I will explain my meaning," she said, "in very few words. I have known the Feltons all my life, and Arthur has been more or less in love with me since he was a boy; rather less than more, perhaps, for that's his way, and not at all to the detriment of his being quite as much in love with any number of women besides. He and his father never got on well. Mr. Felton did not like 'his ways' as the goodies and gossips say, and, in particular, he did not like his being in love with me, for he can't bear me. Frightfully bad taste, isn't it? Get along, President," this to one of the ponies, as she touched him up with her whip; "you've had walking enough. Awfully bad taste--thank you, you needn't say yes; you're looking unutterable things. Of course, I don't mind that particularly, and I don't care for Arthur Felton in the ve-ry least," with a most enchanting drawl and the faintest pout of the crimson lips. "He made himself a perfect nuisance in Paris, and I really must have quarrelled with him, if I had not gone away with some friends who wouldn't have Arthur--no, not in the ve-ry least," and she repeated the before-mentioned little performance quite enchantingly. "But you agreed to meet him here?" said her companion, very moodily. "Agreed to meet him here! How ridiculous you are! I gave him rendezvous, which I beg to observe is not precisely the same thing as agreeing to meet him." "_Sounds_ like it," said the gentleman, still more sulkily. "Very true; but it isn't. I meant to come here--I always lay my plans long beforehand--just at this time, and I thought I might as well let him come here as have him constantly teasing me in the mean time. It was a long while off, remember." And her black eyes danced with mischief and enticement. "And where is he now?" asked her companion, after he had given her another look which brought the burning colour to her cheeks once more. "How on earth should _I_ know?" was her answer; and as she made it she turned her head round, and looked him full in the face. "How on earth should I know?" she repeated. "You don't imagine, I suppose, that I correspond with all the friends of my youth. No, no; I never think of people when they are out of my sight. I have no one that I care about enough to think of in absence, and I never write a letter if I can possibly avoid it." "I understood, when Mr. Felton came to London, he had not heard from his son for some time, and he has certainly not seen him there." "Very likely; Master Arthur is not a particularly dutiful son. However, his father will see him here, if he stays till next week, that's a fact." "What sort of person is Mr. Felton's son? I can't say I admire the old gentleman much."