On the following day, Selina proceeded to Madame Damereau's at an early hour, before any of the other clientèle would be likely to appear. But the interview, although Mrs. Cooper had said as much as she dared, was not productive of good. Madame had gradually learnt the true position of Oscar Dalrymple, that he was a very poor man, instead of a rich one; she feared she might have trouble over her account, and was obstinate and obdurate. Not exactly insolent: she was never that, to her customers' faces: but she and Mrs. Dalrymple both lost temper, and the latter was impolitic enough to say some cutting things, not only in disparagement of madame's goods, but about the "cheating prices" she had been charged. Madame Damereau's face turned green, and the interview ended by her stating that if some money was not immediately furnished her, she should sue Mr. Dalrymple for the whole. Selina went away sick at heart; for she read determination on the incensed lips of the Frenchwoman. CHAPTER XIV. LADY ADELA. "How sly Mary has been!" The above exclamation spoken by Lady Adela Grubb in a sort of resentful tone, as she read a letter while sipping her coffee, caused her husband to look up. He sat at the opposite end of the breakfast-table, attractive with its silver and flowers and its beautiful Worcester china. "Are you speaking of your sister Mary?" he asked. "What has she done?" Any answer to this question Lady Adela did not condescend to give. Unless the tossing of the letter across the table to him could be called one--and she did it with a gesture of scorn. The letter, a short one, came from Miss Upton, of Court Netherleigh. "My DEAR ADELA, "I have a little business to transact in London tomorrow, and will take luncheon with you at one o'clock, if quite convenient. Tell your husband, with my kind regards, that I hope to see him also--if he can spare an hour from that exacting place of his, Leadenhall Street. So I am to have your sister Mary as a neighbour, after all! "Your sincere friend, "MARGERY UPTON." "Which means, I presume, that Mary is to marry Cleveland," remarked Mr. Grubb, as he read the concluding sentence. "Stupid thing! I told her, weeks ago, she was flirting with him." "Nay, not flirting, Adela. Cleveland is not capable of that." Adela tossed her head. How lovely she looked! fair as the fresh summer morning. "She was flirting, though. And he would flirt, if he were not too old. Parsons, as a rule, flirt more than laymen. She must be hard up for a husband to take him. He has a houseful of children!" "I dare say she likes him," said Mr. Grubb. "Oh, nonsense! One only point can be urged in his favour--that he is a patrician." "That he is what?" cried Mr. Grubb, who was drinking his coffee at the moment, and did not hear the word. "A patrician. Not a plebeian."