"Madame," said one of the assistants, putting in her head and speaking in a low tone, "the countess wishes to see you before she leaves." "I am with her ladyship in the moment. Madame Dalreemp, if you are not too hurried, if you can wait till some of these ladies are gone, the caisse shall be brought out. I will not show it while they are here; I want you to have first view." "I am in no hurry," replied Mrs. Dalrymple. "I have not been here for two days, so shall give myself time to look round." As Selina did, and to gossip also. Several of her acquaintances were present. Lady Adela Grubb for one. Adela was looking a little worn and weary. A discontented expression sat on her face, not satisfactory to see, and she evidently did not take the enraptured interest in those fine articles, displayed around, that Selina took. Of course they were all "superbes" and "ravissant," as madame was given to observe: still a show-room, even such a one as this, tempting though it undoubtedly is, does not bear for every one quite the fascination of the basilisk. Amidst other ladies who came in was Selina's old neighbour in the country, Mrs. Cleveland, the Rector's wife. Selina was surprised. "I am only up for a day or two, my dear," she said. "I shall call in Berkeley Street before I go back." "And how is mamma?" "She is pretty well, my dear, and Alice too. Mary Lynn is staying with them." "Oh is she? You never told me that," added Selina, turning to Lady Adela. Lady Adela's mouth took rather a scornful curve. "Do you suppose Miss Lynn's movements concern me, that I should hear of them? When did you see Aunt Margery last, Mrs. Cleveland?" "At church on Sunday." "How beautiful!" exclaimed Selina, as they were slowly walking round the room, to look at the displayed wares: some on stands ranged against the walls, some on a large centre table. The ladies moved from one sight to another with enraptured gaze. "What is beautiful?" asked Mrs. Cleveland. "That mantle?" "Which mantle? That old dowdy black silk thing! I meant these sleeves. See; there's a collar to match." "Yes, ma'am," interrupted one of the assistants, "we never had anything more beautiful in the house." "What are they?" inquired Selina. The young woman, attired in black silk only a degree less rich than madame's and a gold chain, her hair arranged in the newest fashion, carried the sleeves to her mistress. "What am I to ask?" she said in a low tone. "Twelve guineas." "It is for Mrs. Dalrymple." "Oh! I thought it was Madame Cliv-land. Fifteen guineas." "They are fifteen guineas, madam," said the young person, returning. "And dirt cheap." "I inquired what description of lace it was," said Mrs. Dalrymple. "Not the price." "It is Venice point, madam. Real Venice point." "I think I must have them," cried Mrs. Dalrymple. "Are they not tempting? "Not to me," laughed Mrs. Cleveland. "I have too many little pairs of live arms to provide for, to give that price for a pair of sleeves."