So that all was new, strange, wonderful, glorious--and at first she was utterly dazzled. True, a modern girl would have laughed in her sleeve could she have heard Leo's idea of the gay world. She would have said this unsophisticated creature went nowhere and knew nothing. She would have marvelled--perhaps as much as Leo would have marvelled at her. Leo did more than marvel, she was secretly shocked and disgusted on several occasions, but with the fidelity of the young to the young she said nothing to Sue. Sue thought the houses she took her young sister to all that was prudent and respectable. Some of them were rather great houses--the Bolderos, when they did seek society, moved on a high plane, and the very fact that they seldom sought it, told in their favour. The sisters were not overwhelmed with invitations, but they had enough to gratify the elder and delight the younger. Leo did not dance; indeed, she did not know how, so the one ball to which she was bidden was declined, but the two went to a fair amount of dinner-parties, not of the most lively order, but pictorial and majestic. They were invited to opera boxes--generally on the grand tier. Leo was on the box seat of a coach occasionally. As for teas, they overran every afternoon, and concerts, bazaars, charity entertainments, Hurlingham and Ranelagh filled up the interstices. It was in short a giddy round, and perhaps as good a cure for the sort of complaint from which our poor little girl was suffering as could have been devised. It swept her off her feet--and in another sense swept her on to her feet. She learned in curious ways a good deal. Her shell was broken, and albeit the outer air was none of the purest, it served its purpose of blowing away the cobwebs that had so long encircled her outlook. July, however, was passing, and soon, all too soon, fairy-land would vanish in a myriad of shattered sparklets, and then? "I suppose we could not go to Cowes, Sue?" A very tempting invitation for the Cowes week had come, and there had been hints of further house-parties, and shooting-parties,--but of these latter Leo knew at once that she must not think. For Cowes, however, she would make a push. "It is so near, and we could go home as easily from there as from here,"--she murmured, wistfully. "And the Beverleys are very nice people, Sue." "Oh, very; but--I don't know. I am afraid it would hardly do to suggest it. You see father has already been asked twice to let us stay on, and, dear Leo, he has been _very_ good about it. Even Aunt Charlotte was surprised." "It was Aunt Charlotte who did the trick though;" Leo wagged her head wisely. "Her sending him a card for her reception was a masterpiece. I almost wonder he didn't come up for it. Well, what about Cowes?" "We will think it over, dear." "I could go by myself, you know." "No," said Sue, decidedly.