"I don't see why you want to make a holy show of me," grumbled Jim. "We must make your death appear as plausible as possible." "But I don't want to look like a livin' skeleton." "Oh, I don't think Lola will mind," said Leah, cruelly, and started out to enjoy herself in the best of spirits. While at Lord Sargon's seat in Shropshire, she met Askew in the company of the fixture. The young man's betrothed was extremely like a dairy-maid, and her frocks set Lady Jim's teeth on edge. If she could combine colours that did not match, she always did so, and her character was as colourless as her wardrobe was gaudy. Marjory was the creature's name, and her conversation was the "Pa-pa!" "Mam-ma!" of a squeaking doll. "How much are you paying for her?" asked Leah, after satisfying herself that the young lady was really a woman. "Five thousand a year," replied the lieutenant, sulkily. "What a bargain!" "Don't laugh at me," he implored; "you know there is but one woman in the world for me." "So you told me. Lola--what's her name?" "Some one nearer and dearer than her!" he murmured, with what the Americans call "goo-goo" eyes, whereat Lady Jim laughed, and allowed him to fetch and carry, and sit on his hind legs and bark prettily, like a well-trained lap-dog. It amused her, and kept him on tenterhooks. The only annoying thing was, that Marjory seemed to care little for this annexation of her lover. She much preferred a fox-hunting squire, who talked "stables," and glowered on Askew for not appreciating the dairy-maid. In this capture of another woman's man, Leah combined pleasure with business. She did not wish to spoil Jim's little game with the Spanish lady, and it would never do for Askew to detail Mr. Berring's past in a quarter where such betrayal would lead to trouble. By this time the amorous sailor was the slave of beauty, so Lady Jim was sufficiently mistress of his will to limit his correspondence. This she did one evening after dinner, while admiring Marjory's new frock. "Yellow and green," murmured Leah, when she and Askew filled up a corner, and watched frantic people playing bridge; "poached egg on spinach. If you design her gowns, Mr. Askew, I should advise a less lavish use of primary colours." "She means well," he muttered, apologetically. "People who need excuses for existing always do," retorted Lady Jim; "but she is really a sweetly simple girl, with two ideas, neither of which includes you, my dear boy. I am sure you will be very happy together, doing cake-walks." "Doing cake-walks?" "That sort of dress always makes me think of South Carolina and the 'old Kentucky home,' you know. They invented cake-walks there, I believe. But I forgot--you prefer places below the equator." "I never think of South America," he protested. "Of course not. The jewel is more attractive than the casket. When did you last hear from Señorita Fajardo?" "I never had a letter from her in my life." "She is cautious, it seems. Are you?"