I don't read Balzac, and I don't know what George means. I don't try, and I find that is the best sort of sympathy one can give. At any rate, he likes it, and he is always having me in his study, and teaching me to type-write, and saying little things, like that I have put down, under his breath. He mutters a good deal to himself, not to me, and wants not so much some one to talk to, as some one to talk at. We hear no more of Lady Scilly. She has not been here since Ariadne was married. Ariadne was an excuse. Mother never gave her an excuse to come to see her, she had never accepted her, or been rude to her either. She simply ignored her. So Lady Scilly not having Ariadne to come and fetch, had no particular reason for coming to us, unless she came to see George, and she could have seen him more easily at "The Hutch" or her town-house, till quite recently. She used to come here about her novel, but most uncomfortably, for Christina was a sad dragon, and looked down her nose at her. Christina could curl her nostril really, which very few women can do. It is a horrid thing to have done at you, and withers you soonest of anything. Now the novel is finished, and the type-written copy, tied up like Christmas meat, is going the social round of all the literary men who have been asked to her dinner-parties with a view to their favourable opinion. I know that Mr. Frederick Cook has had it, and written her a polite letter about it, though that won't prevent him slating it in _The Bittern_ if he wants to. So Mrs. Ptomaine says. I know that what Aunt Gerty said in spite, and to give Mother a stick to hit George back with when he came and found us doing dressmaking in his sacred study, was true. Lord Scilly had told George not to go to his house any more. Perhaps Lady Scilly had said he might? Having no more use for George, she may have given Lord Scilly a free hand with him, and perhaps a free foot, who knows? I think she is not nice. I am on George's side now, as far as outside politics go, though I shall never approve of the way he treats my brother Benvenuto. Lady Scilly came to Cinque Cento House at last, and George didn't "look that pleased to see her," as Elizabeth Cawthorne said afterwards. Elizabeth Cawthorne has no opinion of her, nor of the way she goes on with that German fellow. She means the man who was so rude to Ariadne at the Islingtons', at least he was far too kind for politeness. He was a Count then, but he is also Lady Scilly's chauffeur. He was waiting outside on her motor at this very moment, quite the servant. She took him to her aunt's ball for the fun of it, I suppose, and it was easy to pretend he was somebody, for he looks quite military and distinguished. Elizabeth showed her into the study, saying gruffly, "A female to see you, sir."