“No? Well then, we might have a bite together.” Why could he never lie? How he despised himself! “I--I can’t, Miss Lord. I have only ninety-five cents.” He felt naked before her. A lady should blush and go away when one stood naked before her. There was Miss Lord laughing: swinging her weight back joyously on one heel the better to observe him. “Oh, isn’t it always a joke when we find ourselves short? I understand so well. Won’t you be _my_ guest, Mr. Markand?” She tilted her head back. David noticed how small her bonnet was above the mass of her hair. “You know,” she went on, “it was really my invitation after all.” “Oh--I--no--I.” Her light mood was an added weight. She was quick to understand and to redispose her forces. “Then you must permit me to lend you five dollars. There now. I’ll be offended if you don’t.” She dug in her bag and held out a bill. “Why should you discriminate against a fellow?” David paused long enough to try to see with what he thought her generous eyes the foolish panic he was in. He gathered himself. They both laughed. He took the bill. “It is good of you,” he said. “And of you,” she answered. She was silent and meek while the waiter took the order. He was gone. She began. She talked methodically. She chose her specific subject and cribbed him in it. It was plain that Caroline Lord detested vagueness and abhorred disorder. No wide fields to roam and to be lost in. Miss Lord was managing this lunch. Before long she bored him. In the emptiness of this, he could retreat a bit and see her. She was a handsome woman. Her age was beyond David’s knowing. He would have called her new, rather than young. She was well-kept. “I saw a play last night I am sure would have interested you. _The Blue Daisy_. Have you seen it?” He said, No. “Do you go to the theater much?” He said, No, again. Miss Lord followed her plan. She had a catalogue of non-essential subjects: art, politics, life:--the sort to be served at amicable luncheons. She had already done books. “Why--it’s the story of two brothers. Let me see, what is their name? _Daysplaings--Gass-tong_ and _Rah-ool Daysplaings_. There’s the eldest who has a beautiful estate in Normandy. The young one is sort of a poet, a dreamer, you know--wanders about, mostly with his brother’s wife while----” David knew he was going to hear the entire story. She was a handsome woman. There were no curves in her face. Her chin was square and her mouth was straight. The poise of her forehead was straight and the look of her eyes was square. “Well, you can imagine what happened then. But it didn’t. The idea was there. That is bad enough. The husband was quite right, I think....” Miss Lord was a pattern of symmetry: a study in balance and rule.