"Decline her? I can't, my dear Philip! I agreed to have her a month ago. I have never seen you to tell you till now, you know; you've been so sworn to Newmarket all through the Spring Meetings. Decline her? she comes to-night!" "Comes to-night?" laughed Carruthers. "All is lost, then. We shall see the Countess of Marabout moving through London society with a West Indian, who has a skin like Othello; has as much idea of manners as a housemaid that suddenly turns out an heiress, and is invited by people to whom she yesterday carried up their hot water; reflects indelible disgrace on her chaperone by gaucheries unparalleled; throws glass or silver missiles at Soames's head when he doesn't wait upon her at luncheon to her liking, as she has been accustomed to do at the negroes----" "Philip, pray don't!" cried Lady Marabout, piteously. "Or, we shall welcome under the Marabout wing a young lady fresh from convent walls and pensionnaire flirtations, who astonishes a dinner-party by only taking the first course, on the score of jours maigres and conscientious scruples; who is visited by révérends pères from Farm Street, and fills your drawing-room with High Church curates, whom she tries to draw over from their 'mother's' to their 'sister's' open arms; who goes every day to early morning mass instead of taking an early morning canter, and who, when invited to sing at a soirée musicale, begins 'Sancta Maria adorata!'" "Philip, _don't_!" cried Lady Marabout. "Bark at him, Bijou, the heartless man! It is as likely as not little Montolieu may realize one of your horrible sketches. Ah, Philip, you don't know what the worries of a chaperone are!" "Thank Heaven, no!" laughed Carruthers. "It is easy to make a joke of it, and very tempting, I dare say--one's woes always _are_ amusing to other people, they don't feel the smart themselves, and only laugh at the grimace it forces from one--but I can tell you, Philip, it is anything but a pleasant prospect to have to go about in society with a girl one may be ashamed of!--I don't know anything more trying; I would as soon wear paste diamonds as introduce a girl that is not perfectly good style." "But why not have thought of all this in time?" Lady Marabout sank back in her chair, and curled Bijou's ears, with a sigh. "My dear Philip, if everybody always thought of things in time, would there be any follies committed at all? It's precisely because repentance comes too late, that repentance is such a horrible wasp, with such a merciless sting. Besides, _could_ I refuse poor Lilla Montolieu, unhappy as she is with that bear of a man?"