“Well, then, to put it plainly,” said I, with a pleasant smile, “I felt all the time that Mrs. Hilary would be too good for me.” It is not very often that it falls to my humble lot to startle Lady Mickleham out of her composure. But at this point she sat up quite straight in her chair; her cheek flushed, and her eyelids ceased to droop in indolent insouciance. “Mrs. Hilary!” she said. “What has Mrs. Hilary--? “I really thought you understood,” said I, “the object of my experiment.” Dolly glanced at me. I believe that my expression was absolutely innocent--and I am, of course sure that hers expressed mere surprise. “I thought,” she said, after a pause, “that you were thinking of Nellie Phaeton.” “Oh, I see,” cried I smiling. “A natural mistake, to be sure.” “She thought so too,” pursued Dolly, biting her lip. “Did she though?” “And I’m sure she’d be quite annoyed if she thought you were thinking of Mrs. Hilary.” “As a matter of fact,” I observed, “she didn’t understand what I was doing at all.” Dolly leant back. The relics of a frown still dwelt on her brow; presently, however, she began to swing her hat on her forefinger, and she threw a look at me. I immediately looked up toward the branches above my head. “We might as well go in to lunch,” said Dolly. “By all means,” I acquiesced, with alacrity. We went out into the sunshine, and came where the pots were. Suddenly Dolly said: “Go back and sit down again, Mr. Carter.” “I want my lunch,” I ventured to observe. “Do as I tell you,” said Dolly, stamping her foot; whereat, much intimidated, I went back, and stretched myself once more on the deck chair. Dolly approached a flower pot. She stooped down, exerting her strength, lifted it, and carried it, not without effort, across the terrace. Again she did the like. I sat smoking and watching. She lifted a third pot, but dropped it half way. Then, dusting her hands against one another, she came back slowly into the shade and sat down. I made no remark. Dolly glanced at me. “Well?” she said. “Woman--woman--woman!” said I sadly. “Must I carry some more?” asked Dolly, in a humble, yet protesting, tone. “Mrs. Hilary,” I began, “is an exceedingly attractive--” Dolly rose with a sigh. “Where are you going?” I asked. “More pots,” said Dolly, standing opposite me. “I must go on, you see.” “Till when, Lady Mickleham?” “Till you tell the truth,” said Dolly, and she suddenly burst into a little laugh. “Woman--woman--woman!” said I again. “Let’s go in to lunch.” “I’m going to carry the pots,” said Dolly. “It’s awfully hot, Mr. Carter--and look at my poor hands!” She held them out to me. “Lunch!” said I. “Pots!” said Dolly, with infinite firmness. The window of the dining room opened and Archie put his head out. “Come along, you two,” he called. “Everything’s getting cold.” Dolly turned an appealing glance on me. “How obstinate you are!” she said. “You know perfectly well--” I began to walk towards the house.