"Not so pleasant as you think," said the young man. "The only fun was the Contessa's, don't you know. She's a fine woman for her age, but she's---- Goodness! I forgot. She's your----" "She is _passee_," said the girl calmly. "You make me afraid, Lord Montjoie. How much of a critic you are, and see through women, through and through." At this the noble Marquis laughed with true enjoyment of his own gifts. "But you ain't offended?" he said. "There was no harm meant. Even a lady can't, don't you know, be always the same age." "Don't you think so?" said Bice. "Oh, I think you are wrong. The Contessa is of no age. She is the age she pleases--she has all the secrets. I see nobody more beautiful." "That may be," said Montjoie; "but you can't see everybody, don't you know. She's very handsome and all that--and when the real thing isn't there--but when it is, don't you know----" "English is very perplexing," said Bice, shaking her head, but with a smile in her eyes which somewhat belied her air of simplicity. "What may that be--the real thing? Shall I find it in the dictionary?" she asked; and then their eyes met and there was another burst of laughter, somewhat boisterous on his part, but on hers with a ring of lightheartedness which quenched the malice. She was so young that she had a pleasure in playing her _role_, and did not feel any immorality involved. While this conversation was going on, which was much observed and commented on by all the company, Jock from one end of the table and Mr. Derwentwater from the other, looked on with an eager observation and breathless desire to make out what was being said which gave an expression of anxiety to the features of MTutor, and one of almost ferocity to the lowering countenance of Jock. Both of these gentlemen were eagerly questioned by the ladies next them as to who this young lady might be. "Terribly theatrical, don't you think, to come into a room like that?" said the mother of the girls in blue. "If my Minnie or Edith had been asked to do it they would have died of shame." "I do not deny," said Mr. Derwentwater, "the advantage of conventional restraints. I like the little airs of seclusion, of retirement, that surround young ladies. But the----" he paused a little for a name, and then with that acquaintance with foreign ways on which Mr. Derwentwater prided himself, added, "the Signorina was at home." "The Signorina! Is that what you call her--just like a person that is going on the stage. She will be the--niece, I suppose?"