"I have been telling Justine that I shall not go to any further expense over it. I have just sent him a cheque for his account, and your head looks so much better that I think we may be satisfied now." Maude's cheeks turned scarlet, and so did her temple and neck, but her beautiful hair made a magnificent veil, and hid her confusion from her ladyship's view as she examined the parting, drew it away from the temples and poked it about just at the poll. "Don't you think, mamma, I had better keep on for a little longer?" "No," said her ladyship, peremptorily. "Your hair is in beautiful condition. I grudged paying that man; but he has saved your hair, and he deserves what he has received. He is very clever." "I should like to continue a little longer, mamma." "You'll do nothing of the sort," said her ladyship tartly. "Your hair is perfect." "I must go and say that I am not about to continue his course of treatment." "No, you must not. I shall write to Monsieur Launay myself and tell him. I cannot afford these expenses, the demands for money are dreadful. I am always spending. Go away, Preen." "Yes, my lady," said the little maid, and she "made a face" as she left the room. "The preparations for your marriage will be more than I can afford." "Oh, mamma, must that go on?" cried Maude. "Now, now, now, Maude, no more of that, please. I will not have it. Silence. The expenses will be terrible, and I shall be very glad when it is over, and so will you be, and I must say I am pleased to find you are coming more to your senses. Oh, that odious wretch. Go away, do!" Her ladyship crossed to the window and shut it down with a crash, deadening the sound of Luigi's minstrelsy as she returned to her daughter's side. "Really the expenses of our establishment are maddening. I have had the wine merchant's bill in this morning, and it is outrageous. The man must be a swindler. Case after case of dry champagne charged for that I cannot remember having. But I must see into it at once; and, yes: I am quite satisfied there is no need for you to go to the hairdresser's any more." Her ladyship gave a quick glance round the room--a glance that took in everything, the furniture, the davenport at which her daughter wrote, the books she had been reading, even to the tiny cobweb left by a careless housemaid in one corner, and then in a very dissatisfied frame of mind she descended to write to Mr Launay, leaving her daughter looking speechless with misery, and gazing wildly at the closed window. "Shall I finish your hair, ma'am?" said a voice which made her start, for she had not heard the door opened.