Now, had I said anything particularly amusing? I hadn't tried, and I do think you should leave off calling children "it" after the first six months. Mothers hate it. Still, though I didn't think her quite polite, I told her my name--Tempe Vero-Taylor--in a low voice so that she could introduce me to her great friend, as we were going to lunch at the same table. I thought there wouldn't be a children's table, as she didn't speak of children, and I was glad, for children eat like pigs and have no conversation. Her eyebrows went up and her mouth went down, but she soon buttoned up her lips again, though they stayed open at the corners, and didn't introduce me to Mr. Hermyre at all. I didn't suppose I should ever meet him again, so it didn't matter. We went in and had lunch, and it was quite a grand lunch, hot, and as much again cold on a side-table. But I was actually offered rice-pudding! I wouldn't have believed it, in a house like this. I refused rather curtly, but she ate it, and very little else. I generally take water at home, but I did not see why I shouldn't taste champagne when I had the chance, and I took a great deal, quite a full glass full, and when I had taken it, I felt as if I could fight a lion. George often says when he comes back from London that he has been fighting with wild beasts at Ephesus. I wondered if I might not meet some this afternoon at the lecture at the Go-ahead Club? Lady Scilly (that's her name) said she must take me, and I knew I should be bored, but I couldn't very well say no. "You may come too, Simmy," she said to the young man; "it will be exciting, I can promise you!" "Not if I know it," he said. Then he tried to be kind and said, "What is the lecture about?" "The Uses of Fiction." "None, that I can see, except to provide some poor devil with an income." "That's a man's view." "It is," he said, "a man, and not a monkey's. You don't call your literary crowd men, do you?" I was just wondering what he did call them, when Lady Scilly shut him up, and I thought she looked at me. Presently he went on-- "You're quite spoiling your set, you know, Paquerette. I used to enjoy your receptions." "I don't see why you should permit yourself to abuse my set because you're a fifth cousin. That's the worst of being well connected, so many people think they have the right to lecture one!" "All the better for you, my dear! Do you suppose now, that if you were not niece to a duke and cousin to a marquis, that Society would allow you to fill your house with people like Morrell Aix and Mrs. Ptomaine and Ve----" Lady Scilly jumped up and said she must go and dress, and if he wouldn't come to the lecture he must go, and pushed me out of the room in front of her and on up-stairs. "Good-bye!" she called to him over the bannisters. "Let yourself out, and don't steal the spoons."