"Well, no; all the same----" She clasped her hands over her knee, and smiled indulgently at his mortified face. "All the same, you are unwise to explain, so we will change the subject, Mr. Askew." "Ah! Not even Harry?" "Not even Leah," she mocked. "Still, you can call me Lady Jim." "Till you change the name." "Certainly not for that of Askew. Señorita Fajardo may think differently, when you propose." "How do you know I shall?" he asked sulkily, for every word she uttered fretted his uneasy vanity. "Because you are a shuttle-cock between two battledores. She sent you flying to me; I shall speed you back to her." The young man was almost too mortified to speak. "What a light, vain fool you make me out to be!" "No. You are merely a man in the hands of two women--clay in the hands of accomplished potters. Now," she laid a caressing hand on his arm, "promise me to go back to Rosario at once." "No!" snapped Askew, wincing at the touch, and so gave her the very answer she required. Her motive in pelting him with hard sentences had been to arouse his vanity to assert itself in aggressive contradiction; and for three reasons. Firstly, she did not wish him to make an inconvenient third in Mr. Berring's wooing of the Spanish lady, lest he should learn much that it was undesirable for him to know. Secondly, she required him as her Parisian decoy-duck. And thirdly, it was out of the question that he should dare to end the flirtation without her leave. A reflection of these things led her to play skilfully on manly conceit, with the aforesaid result. She was satisfied when he replied in the negative. Askew also, since thereby, in his own estimation, he had vindicated virility, and lacked the insight to see himself her puppet. Having gained her end, Lady Jim apparently yielded to the lord-of-creation fiat. "Well, then, come to Paris with me and Joan Tallentire. We go on Monday to the Hotel Henri Trois, Champs Élysées. You can come on Wednesday." "But I don't think----" "I am quite sure you don't. Perhaps Thursday will suit you better." "If you insist." "I do not, unless on common sense, of which you possess so little." "How you bully me!" he cried, much vexed by this badgering. "Of course; we always bully those we love--as friends, that is. Ah, here is M. Aksakoff. What a surprise!" She rose gracefully and sailed forward with outstretched hand, "So kind of you to come! You know Mr. Askew, I think."