“At any rate, if he is a porpoise, we have an opportunity of studying a little zoology, and finding out that porpoises are by no means laggards in love,” laughs Zai. “Look how eagerly he goes, though there is nothing very encouraging in Trixy’s face. She forgets to beam on him as she does on other men!” “And who can blame her? Don’t you think it must require a vast deal of gold to gild that creature’s bulky form, and a vast deal of avarice and interestedness in a woman to take him for better--for worse?” Lord Delaval asks, with a sneer. “I should think you must be almost tired of sneering at everyone, Lord Delaval, or is it a chronic habit of yours?” Zai questions carelessly. “You see, if some men have the misfortune to lack beauty and refinement, there may be some as handsome and polished as yourself.” “Are there many of the same nonpareils, Miss Zai, or do you think there is only--one?” he answers, with a lame attempt at jesting, but the most obtuse can see he is nettled. “There may be many for aught I know. That there is _one_, I _do_ know,” she returns quickly. “Granting even so--pray does one swallow make a summer?” “Not exactly, but you have a hateful habit of running people down, Lord Delaval, a habit that to my mind is not to be admired.” “I know what you mean,” he answers flushing a little. “Just because I happened to say, during our last valse at your ball the other night, that a man, because he chooses to lower himself, cannot lift his new _confrères_ to the grade which he has forfeited, but remains lost himself, to his family, and to Society. I could say a deal more on this subject.” “Please don’t edify me with it,” cries Zai impatiently, “I do not care to hear any dissertations on it. You never lose an opportunity to sneer at Mr. Conway, and Mr. Conway’s profession, and it is hopeless to rebuke you for it, or even to notice your remarks.” “Zai, I think you are giving your unruly member too much licence. Lord Delaval must be horrified at such unconventional talk,” Lady Beranger breaks in angrily from behind. “Oh let little Zai prattle,” Paterfamilias says indulgently. “Delaval must be sick of conventional talk, and her unworldly wisdom must be quite refreshing. Besides, animation becomes her style of beauty.” “I am sorry if I treated Lord Delaval to a lecture, mamma, it is a great waste of breath I know,” Zai replies wilfully, ignoring her mother’s warning glance, “but he seems to find no subject so interesting as abuse of Mr. Conway.” “To the best of my knowledge, I did not mention his name even,” Lord Delaval says in a martyr-like tone, “but you always treat me cruelly, Miss Zai. I confess I do not care about actors being dragged into Society as they are. They ought to be kept in their places.” “There are actors, and _actors_, I suppose,” Zai says flushing deeply, “and I don’t see that a gentleman is the least bit not a gentleman, no matter what profession he follows.”