Her hearer, without betraying any sign of the mirth she inwardly felt, meekly agreed that Mrs. Stimpson was undoubtedly well fitted to impersonate a Queen, and that the costume of a Venetian Doge was rather a trying one, after which her hostess proceeded: "Perhaps you are right, dear Lady Harriet, but the worst of it was that my boy Clarence, who would have made such a handsome Romeo, insisted on going as a _Pierrot_! Very likely you have seen Clarence?... Oh, you would certainly have noticed him if you had--always so well turned out. He's got quite a good post as Secretary to an Insurance Co., in the City: they think so highly of him there--take his advice on everything--in fact, he practically _is_ the Company! And only twenty-two! It's _such_ a relief, because there _was_ a time when it really seemed as if he'd never settle down to any regular work. Nothing would induce him to enter my husband's business--for I must tell you, Lady Harriet, we _are_ in business. Sauces, pickles, condiments of every sort and description--_wholesale_, you know, _not_ retail, so I hope you aren't _too_ dreadfully shocked!" Lady Harriet remarked that she saw nothing to be shocked at--several of her relations and friends were in business of various kinds, which gave Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson the opening she required. "Society has changed its views so _much_ lately, has it not?" she said. "Why, the youngest partner in Mr. Wibberley-Stimpson's firm is a younger son of the Earl of Fallowfields--Mr. Chervil Thistleton, and an Honourable, of _course_! I daresay you are acquainted with him?... Not? Quite a charming young man--married a Miss Succory, a connection of the Restharrows, and such a sweet girl! You may have met her?... Oh, I thought--but I really hardly know her _myself_ yet," (which was Mrs. Stimpson's method of disguising the fact that she had never met either of them in her life). "When he came into the warehouse he was perfectly amazed at the immense variety in pickles and sauces--it was quite a revelation to him. Only he can't _touch_ pickles of any kind, which is a pity, because it prevents him from taking the interest he might in the business.... Just _one_ of these hot cakes, dear Lady Harriet--you're making such a wretched tea!... I should like you to see my youngest child, Ruby. She's gone out to tea with some little friends of hers, but she may be back before you go. So much admired--such lovely colouring! But just a _little_ difficult to manage. Governess after governess have I had, and none of them could do anything with her. My present one, however, she seems to have taken to. Miss Heritage, her name is--at least she was adopted as a baby by a rich widow of that name, and brought up in every luxury. But Mrs. Heritage died without making a will, and it seems she'd muddled away most of her money, and there were claims on what she left, so the poor girl had to turn out, and earn her own living. Such a sad little