“I must convince her that she is not—.” It was the beginning of what the Duchess had meant to say, but she actually found herself pausing, held for the moment by Dowie’s quiet, civil eye. “Was your grace in your kindness thinking—?” was what the excellent woman said. “Yes. That I would invite young people to meet her—help them to know each other and to make friends.” And even as she said it she was conscious of being slightly under the influence of Dowie’s wise gaze. “Your grace only knows those young people she would like to know.” It was a mere simple statement. “People are not as censorious as they once were.” Her grace’s tone was intended to reply to the suggestion lying in the words which had worn the air of statement without comment. “Some are not, but some are,” Dowie answered. “There’s two worlds in London now, your grace. One is your grace’s and one is Mrs. Gareth-Lawless’. I _have_ heard say there are others between, but I only know those two.” The Duchess pondered again. “You are thinking that what Miss Robin said to Mademoiselle Vallé might be true—in mine. And perhaps you are not altogether wrong even if you are not altogether right.” “Until I went to take care of Miss Robin I had only had places in families Mrs. Gareth-Lawless’ set didn’t touch anywhere. What I’m remembering is that there was a—strictness—shown sometimes even when it seemed a bit harsh. Among the servants the older ones said that is was _because_ of the new sets and their fast wicked ways. One of my young ladies once met another young lady about her own age—she was just fifteen—at a charity bazaar and they made friends and liked each other very much. The young lady’s mother was one there was a lot of talk about in connection with a person of very high station—the highest, your grace—and everyone knew. The girl was a lovely little creature and beautifully behaved. It was said her mother wanted to push her into the world she couldn’t get into herself. The acquaintance was stopped, your grace—it was put a stop to at once. And my poor little young lady quite broke her heart over it, and I heard it was much worse for the other.” “I will think this over,” the Duchess said. “It needs thinking over. I wished to talk to you because I have seen that she has fixed little ideas regarding what she thinks is suited to her position as a paid companion and she might not be prepared. I wish you to see that she has a pretty little frock or so which she could wear if she required them.” “She has two, your grace,” Dowie smiled affectionately as she said it. “One for evening and one for special afternoon wear in case your grace needed her to attend you for some reason. They are as plain as she dare make them, but when she puts one on she can’t help giving it _a look_.” “Yes—she would give it all it needed,” her grace said. “Thank you, Dowie. You may go.”