"Oh, how do you get on? How nice to see you again! But what an extraordinary thing you have done, Grace! And you have step-children, too. Horrors, no doubt!" The words reached my ears. I could scarcely bear myself. Mrs Grant said something, and there was an apologetic, almost frightened look on the lady's face. The next minute a girl, doubtless about my own age, but who had all the _savoir-faire_ which I did not possess, came swiftly forward and dropped into a low chair near me. "I must introduce myself, Miss Grant," she said. "I know you are Miss Grant. I am Lilian St Leger. I am so glad you are here; all the others are so terribly old, you know. Where shall we go to have a nice little talk all to ourselves? Into the back drawing-room? Oh, but have you had enough tea?" "Quite," I replied. Now, if there was an absolutely radiant-looking creature on this earth, it was Lilian St Leger. I won't attempt to describe her, for I have no words. I don't suppose if I were to take her features separately I should be able for a single moment to pronounce them perfect; but it was her sweetness and tact, and the way she seemed to envelop me with her bright presence, which was as cold water to a thirsty person. "I have had quite enough tea," I said. "And I hate tea in drawing-rooms; it is always so weak, and you can only snatch a mouthful of food at a time," said Lilian. "Come along, then." She held out her tiny hand and clasped mine. I felt vulgar and rough and commonplace beside her; but she steered me right past the numerous tables until we got into a room which was comparatively cool, and we sank down together on a sofa. "This is better. Oh, you do look hot! Have you been sitting by the fire?" "Yes, Miss St Leger, I have; but I've also done such an awful thing." "I am sure awful things have been done to you. You heard, of course, what mother said. She didn't mean it; she couldn't have meant it if she had seen you." "If she had seen me she would have meant it in very truth," I replied, "if she had witnessed me a few minutes ago." "Oh! what happened? Tell me everything. It would be lovely if you broke the proprieties of that drawing-room." Lilian was wearing a black velvet hat, which had a great plume of feathers that drooped a little over her face. Her hair was golden, and very thick and very shining. It was not, like mine, hanging down her back, but fastened in a thick knot very low on her neck. "What did you do?" she said, and she clasped my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I knocked over a small table; there was a solitary glass ornament in the middle." "What! Not the Salviati?" "It was glass, not Salviati," I said. She laughed. "Salviati is the maker of some of the most perfect opalescent glass in the world, and this was one of his oldest and most perfect creations. But you saved it?"